


Baguette Knife and Headshot Man

by The_Doktor_Medic



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, No Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 182,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Doktor_Medic/pseuds/The_Doktor_Medic
Summary: Another fluffy (and slightly spicy) adventure for Sniper and Spy.





	1. Chapter 1

"Maggots! Tomorrow the war shall start against the BLU Team!"

It was dinner time. Engie and Pyro had made dinner for all the mercenaries who were gathered around the table. They had just arrived about a week ago and started to get their habits. They had received their weapons and had completed the basic training consisting of mastering how to handle them.

"As the Administrator said, failure will not be tolerated!"

"It's gun' tae be fine, Soldier!"

Said Demo, raising his bottle of "scrumpeh" to take a swig of it.

"Affirmative! It will be fine for we will crush the enemy!"

Soldier banged his fist on the table.

"Mmh!"

Pyro got startled.

"Calm down, Soldier, we will all do our very best and our job."

Said Engie, as he put a hand on Soldier's shoulder.

"Ja, it will only be a matter of coordination. We all know how to handle our equipment so it is a question of knowing how to communicate."

"Yeah, like the Doc' said, it's all about the communimi-comminu-uh talkin'!"

Spy rolled his eyes up. Engie nodded.

"Yeah, very well said, Sawbones!"

The door opened and the mercenaries turned their heads. Sniper entered.

"Good evening to you, Sniper."

Said Spy sarcastically.

"Mh."

The Australian growled. He headed to the fridge, got some bread, mustard and sausages. The mercenaries were used to seeing him enter come dinner time, make something for himself and leave.

"Also pardners, the battle is at 9.00am sharp tomorrow. So be on time!"

"Wait what?! Oh man that's way too early!"

Sniper opened the fridge again, put back the sliced bread and mustard. He spun on his heels and exited the kitchen.

"You are weak, Scout! Back in my day, wars were fought before we could even see the sun rise in the horizon! And for breakfast we all had but our victory to savour!"

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Or at least as smoothly as it could. Soon, the mercenaries moved to their rooms apart from Engie who went back to his garage, followed by Pyro. Spy headed to his smoking room. He unlocked the door and entered.

"Ah, finally."

He locked the door behind him and went to pour himself a glass of wine. Red, from his hometown of Bordeaux, was his favourite. He went to his armchair and sat there, in front of the fireplace. It was the winter and it was a harsh one there. He was used to the cold, coming from France, but not to that extent! He was used to cold rain showers, very thin ones, but nothing like continuous sub-zero temperatures during the day. He took his "Dapper Cadaver" magazine and flipped through the pages, his eyes following the lines of printed characters, gliding on the snow white pages, skiing on the black letters. He enjoyed the dark beverage in front of the fire. The crackling noise of the wood being devoured by the flames, their reflection on the glass he was holding, he found it all quite cosy despite the harshness of the freezing temperatures outside.

He kept on reading his magazine. Articles about men's fashion for that winter season, ideas of recipes for the upcoming Christmas…

Spy grimaced. Christmas was in more than a month! Did anyone need Christmas related things that early?! He sighed. He hated Christmas. A season of fake niceness from everyone. He pulled back his nose and stuck his tongue out in disgust.

_Bleh_.

He took a quick sip of wine to wash the taste of it all away. The dark red liquid spread on his tongue and enveloped it like a bittersweet hug. Slightly acidic at first and on the tip of the tongue but the flavour of the oak it was kept in, and the rich earth the grapes had all grown in diffused to his mouth, palate and even his nose. He could smell the vineyards and closing his eyes, he could see them. Rows of neatly ordered light green vines with shiny grapes hanging generously off each couple branches. The sun of the South-West of France slowly roasting them to slowly turn them from light green to dark violet. The frequent rain to water them and bring them the hydration they need to grow juicy. And the smell of the earth after the rain. He smiled and sighed. He missed his home. Maybe.

He opened his eyes again and looked back at his magazine. More recipes, desserts, cakes… His smile vanished. Spy was not a sweet person, in any meaning of the word. He did not like sweet things and was never described as a sweet person to interact with. Of course he could fake it and countless times, he did.

His eyes went to the fireplace.

How many times did he have to pretend he was the sweet sort of a man? Nearly as many as the ladies he seduced, which in fairness was a fairly big number. Only a few of them was he really charmed by. Well, only one, really.

He shook his head and looked down at his magazine. He flipped the page.

Dating tips, your winter will be far from lonely!

He smirked.

Ha! As if some petty journalist could give him any advice on that! Spy rolled his eyes up. The amount of nonsensical, sensational and idiotic content newspapers had to come up with to keep their readers was beyond him. And it was certainly going downhill! He remembered when he started his career, there was much less things of that nature! Men did not need "tips" on how to get a lady, they needed "guts"! But the new generation now was all soft and sensitive…!

His eyes went back to the magazine and the title of that article.

Dating tips, your winter will be far from lonely!

He sighed and looked at his nearly empty glass. His winter was going to be lonely. Infinitely more lonely than the previous one and no doubt, infinitely less so than the next.

"Meow."

He looked down and smiled. His cat, Perle, was mewling at him. He tapped his lap and she jumped on it.

"Bonsoir, Perle."

[Good evening Pearl.]

The cat turned and laid comfortably there, facing her owner. Her big blue eyes looking up at him. Perle was the reason he sometimes did not go insane. The thought of her would bring him back to reason when his mind would shoot him to insanity. He put the magazine aside and removed his black velvet gloves. He pulled his mask off and threw them all on the other armchair, the one that was always empty.

"Comment vas-tu ma chère amie, hm?"

[How are you my dear friend, hm?]

Spy was not a sweet person to men and women. But animals were something else. There were times when he wished that Perle could speak. He loved her company. Everything was so simple with her.

He put his hand on her back and stroked her. She was one of those cats with long and fluffy hair and she was all snow white. He loved the feeling of losing his fingers on her back. And she loved it too, as she started purring.

He carded his hand through his hair quickly.

"Demain, j'aurai du travail, j'en ai peur. Mais je te ramènerai quelque chose le soir, d'accord?"

[Tomorrow, I will have work to do I'm afraid. But I will try and bring something for you in the evening, ok?]

Perle meowed and Spy smiled. He scratched the top of her head lightly. He looked up at the clock. Time to sleep.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

After the success of Solitude, here is another Sniper/Spy story, quite different from it :)

This is the beginning and as always I don't know where I'm going with this but eh, that's how I start all my fics and they end up being 50 chapters long! ^^  
  
As always, if you like it, let me know in the comments, it makes a huge difference to me ^^

Also, note that my friend Deathtothecrows is editing my work to help my English better and for the story to flow better. Go check their scribbles, they're great! :

Merci et à bientôt,


	2. Chapter 2

Spy had woken up quite early. He was sipping his coffee in his smoking room. He effectively had half a floor of the building for himself. In there, he had a smoking room with everything to survive without having to go to the kitchen too often. He also had a bathroom and a bedroom.

He was taking sips of his coffee while going back and forth between his bedroom and the smoking room. Taking the long mirror he had in his bedroom, Spy put it in a corner of his smoking room. He gathered his clothes and started to get changed. The Frenchman first got undressed and started putting his shirt on, standing in front of the mirror to button it up. He took a sip of his coffee and put his trousers on, put the shirt inside and zipped his fly up. He looked at himself in the mirror for an instant, while taking another sip of his coffee. Spy then grabbed his tie and curled it around his neck. He straightened his back and tied it neatly. He took a few more seconds to adjust it and finished with his vest.

Perle sat on his armchair and meowed.

"Une minute, j'arrive."

[Give me a minute, I'm coming.]

He finished doing the buttons of his vest and went to sit on his armchair. He delicately took Perle in his hands, sat down and put her on his lap. He stroked her while finishing his coffee. He stared at her.

"Qu'est-ce que je ferais sans toi?"

[What would I do without you?]

She stood up on her two back legs, on Spy's lap, and put her front paws on his upper chest. The reflection of the morning light on her silver collar blinded him for an instant. She brushed her head on the Frenchman's mouth. He smiled and left a soft quick kiss, closing his eyes, as he appreciated the softness of her fur.

"Oui, tu vas me manquer aussi mais j'ai du travail, ma petite."

[Yes, I will miss you too but I have work to do, my little one.]

"Meow?"

He put a hand on her back and scratched it. She meowed again, feeling that her owner had to go.

"Je suis désolée ma chérie."

[I'm sorry sweetie.]

He took her in his arms and got off the armchair. He dropped her back on it, delicately. Spy then went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. A moment later he came back to the smoking room and went to the door. He took his jacket off the coat hanger and put it on, along with the mask and his gloves.

"Oh, j'allais oublier."

[Oh, I nearly forgot.]

He went to the window. Well, window was a big word. Spy's floor was between the ground and half under it. So he had a few wide but thin strips of glass on one wall of his smoking room. He raised himself to the tips of his toes and reached for the latch. He pulled it and the thin window opened.

"Voilà, tu peux sortir."

[There you go, you can go out if you want.]

She meowed in thanks and he exited the flat.

\-- Battlefield --

"MISSION BEGINS IN THIRTY SECONDS"

"We go together Doktor!"

The German doctor smiled devilishly behind Heavy.

"Give them hell boys!"

All the RED team was ready for the gates of the BLU spawn to open.

"Alrighty then pardners!"

Engie was leaning on his sentry gun. Spy looked around him. Pyro was standing faithfully next to Engineer to deter the enemy Spy from sapping the labourer's equipment. Soldier had rocket jumped on the fence, to get a better view of the battle field. Demo was standing next to the Engineer to refill his stock of sticky bombs as he had laid all of them around the gates. Heavy and Medic were next to the payload and the medigun shone fiercely with electric discharges, as the übercharge was ready. Spy's eyes travelled behind them and he saw the ever so solitary Sniper, heavily dressed, crouching and aiming at one of the gates. Coming from Australia, the man surely was the least prepared mercenary when it came to freezing temperatures.

"5… 4… 3… 2…"

Scout drank his bonk soda.

"1… BEGIN!"

Loud sirens echoed across the cold landscape of Snowycoast as the gates slid open.

"Have at'em laaaaads!"

The first ones to come out were the BLU Heavy and Medic.

Boom!

Demo made all his stickies explode but the enemy doctor had popped his uber.

"Raus! Raus!"

Spy cloaked and disguised as the BLU Sniper. The rest of the BLU team exited the spawn apart from the said Sniper who tried to take down his counterpart. Spy was counting down to know when the enemy Medic's übercharge would stop to backstab him. But the blue laser from the Sniper prevented him from jumping at the German's back. He needed to make a decision quickly. Either risk it all, jump and try to get to the Doctor's back, hoping that the Sniper would not fire at that moment, or stay behind and wait some more…

Spy was sweating, he looked around. The BLU had lost their pyro and the RED, their sentry. Engie was trying to run back, under Pyro and Demo's cover.

Merde, their Pyro will spawn any second and I'm standing next to the gate… Should I risk it anyway?

The übercharge from the BLU Medic was blinking.

Merde!

The BLU Pyro respawned and saw his colleague Sniper in spawn. As he went through the gate, he saw another BLU Sniper leap from the wall to Medic's back and understood instantly.

"MMPHH!"

He pressed the handle on his flamethrower and the RED Spy gritted his teeth. He saw himself extend his arm in slow motion, his blade shining.

Come on!

The blade slowly and smoothly entered the BLU Medic's back, like a thread cutting through soft butter. But Spy knew he would feel his flesh burn any second…!

BOOM!

"MMPHH!"

"ACH!"

BOOM!

"ARGH!"

The BLU Medic collapsed, Spy spun on his heels and jumped back as his disguise faded away. He put a hand in his inside pocket to get his revolver and try to gun the Pyro down while trying to evade the BLU Sniper's line of sight.

"Oh."

The BLU Pyro's corpse was on the ground and as Spy turned to put a bullet in the BLU Sniper's skull, he saw that a much bigger bullet than his revolver's was already there. His jaw dropped.

"You killed doktor!"

Spy gasped as he realised that the BLU Heavy's mind was now set to kill him. He turned as the Russian man revved his gun and started firing. Spy ran and shot a first bullet.

BAM!

Some of Heavy's bullets made their way to Spy's chest and arm. Closing one eye, Spy aimed again.

BAM!

The Russian man dropped his gun and collapsed. Spy continued to run and switched on his invisibility watch to escape unseen. The battle kept on going while the Frenchman went behind his own teammates, searching for a health kit. He finally found one and collapsed on it. He took a few seconds to heal up, breathe and went back to work.

\-- RED Base --

"Right fellas, the Admin sent us some papers and said each one of you should have a copy, so there y'all go…"

Engie went around the dinner table and gave each of his colleagues a copy.

"Wait, what's all this? Endless numbers!"

"Scout, it's everyone's stats. It says the number of kills, assists and deaths you did and went through and it has a reference number. As y'all know, our combat sessions are recorded by lotsa' cameras. This number there allows ya to check on the footage, if you wanted to. You just need to go to the meetin' room upstairs and put that number in the computer. Does that make sense for everyone?"

"Ja."

"Da."

The rest of the mercenaries present around the table nodded. The door opened.

"Ah, Sniper, there you go."

Engie handed him the piece of paper. The Australian nodded, took his report and made another sandwich while the rest of the mercenaries dealt with their dirty dishes.

\-- Spy's smoking room --

The Frenchman unlocked his door and entered. He had brought some cat treats he had ordered.

"Perle? J'ai une surprise pour toi."

[Pearl? I have a surprise for you.]

He shook the box a couple of times but heard no answer from his feline friend. He shrugged and removed his jacket to put it on the coat hanger. He got shivers. His room had considerably cooled down because of the open window. He went on the tip of his toes and closed it. He then put the report he was holding on the small table next to his armchair.

_J'ai besoin d'une bonne douche, bien chaude._

[ _I need a good hot shower.]_

He exited the bathroom a few minutes later and poured himself a glass of wine. As usual he sat on his armchair and watched the flames. Spy took a sip and put the glass on the small table. When he took it again, a paper came with him.

"Argh!"

The report had stuck to the glass and a dark red circular stain was now on it. He delicately unstuck it and read it.

"Kills: 6

Assists: 1

Deaths: 3"

He read the whole report carefully while reminding himself of what happened and in what order it did happen.

1 Assist on enemy Heavy.

Assist?! He had gunned him down with 2 bullets from his Ambassador to the skull! It was a kill, not an assist!

He frowned and put his fingers on his eyes to rub them. Well, there's one way to be sure of it. He took his jacket and exited his flat. He climbed the stairs quickly yet silently. He arrived in the meeting room and closed the door behind him, locking it. The room was freezing cold, he looked around to see if there was any window he could shut, but to no avail.

"Merde…"

He wrapped his arms around himself, straightening his jacket collar around his neck and sighed. He looked around and got busy. Spy was not well versed in the art of computer science but certainly that big button would be useful to switch the machine on. And so he pressed it. The screen switched on and in a couple minutes, he accessed the footage of the day's session. He watched carefully and switched from one camera to the other to get a better view of what had happened around him. He saw himself leaping at the BLU Medic while the Pyro behind him brandished his flamethrower. In an instant, the latter collapsed to the ground and his Sniper colleague met the same fate. Spy opened wide eyes. It all happened too quickly for him to understand! He removed his hands from his collar and laid them flat on the keyboard. He found out how to rewind the movie and watched it again and again, frame by frame until he noticed a small saturated pixel on the image, travelling from the bottom left corner of the screen to the Pyro's head. He hit pause and switched cameras to understand what was actually reflecting the light at that camera to make those few pixels go white.

_Mon Dieu, c'est Sniper…_

[ _My God, it's Sniper…]_

He went back again and squinted slightly to look at Sniper.

_Oh… C'est lui qui m'a sauvé… Deux fois! Et très jolis tirs en plus!_

[ _Oh… It's him who saved me… Twice! And very good shots at that!]_

He played the record again, looking for the moment where he confronted the enemy Heavy.

_Ah, voilà._

He bent forward slightly to focus on what was happening on the screen. As the Heavy was turning to face him, Spy saw the same couple of white pixels again but this time, they went to the giant's arm. The Frenchman leant back on the chair.

_Ah, voilà donc ce qui s'est passé!_

_[ So that's what happened!]_

He had his answer but kept on watching the bullet scratch his enemy's arm again and again.

_Eh bien je t'en foutrais des tireurs de précision!_ _[So much for a sharpshooter!]_

He switched everything off and went back to his suite.

_**\--Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading! :D

Stay tunes for Chapter 3! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

A couple days had passed and the team started to coordinate their efforts better on the battlefield.

Spy had just come home and was thinking while showering. He remembered how his sapping of the sentry, synchronised with the powerful push from the übered Medic and Demo flipped the situation dramatically earlier. He stopped the shower and smiled to himself. All it had taken was a couple words of communication. It had proved decisive, especially on the last capture point where not one but two Engineers had set up their sentries. All Spy had needed was a distraction and Scout, equipped with his Bonk, had obliged. As much as Spy found the boy immature, he had to admit that thanks to him, he manage to sap and backstab both Engineers easily.

Spy exited the bathroom only wearing a gown and went to the smoking room. He looked down at Perle's bowl of food and saw that it was still full. He took the pack of treats and shook it again.

"Perle?"

He waited and pricked his ears up. Silence.

"Perle, tu es là?"

[Perle are you here somewhere?]

Silence still. He frowned and went to his bedroom. He had meant to wear his pyjamas and spend the evening there but he started to worry for his cat. He thus put on a suit, his mask and gloves and exited his flat to look for his feline friend.

He went to the kitchen, looked around, crossed the threshold to the living room and saw Demo and Soldier fight over the TV remote. He sighed and rolled his eyes up. He left to have a look in the bathroom, even though he did not really expect her to go there. Still no trace of her. Spy stopped walking in the base and pondered for a while.

_Elle ne peut pas être dans une des chambres, elle ne se laisse jamais approcher par quelqu'un d'autre que moi… Et.. Elle…_

[She can't be in one of the rooms, she doesn't let anyone get close to her apart from me… Or… Well, her...]

His mind escaped to the thought of that woman. He put his fingers on his eyes and rubbed them, frowning. It did still hurt.

"Hey, Spy! What're you doin' here? Lookin' to finally take a shower?"

Scout's melodious voice broke the Frenchman's train of thought. His eyes snapped open and he looked at the younger man from above, a clear look of annoyance on his face. He sighed, rolled his eyes up again and left.

_Mais où est-ce qu'elle peut bien être…?_

[Where the hell can she be…?]

He took the stairs down. He was about to open his door when he thought of something. He couldn't afford to let the window open for Perle to come back, or his flat and him inside would turn into an ice cave.

_Merde. Comment va-t-elle rentrer alors?_

[Shit. How will she be able to come back home then?]

He wondered, stood in front of his door, his hand on the doorknob when he got an idea. He turned and went down a level lower. He coughed as he entered a spacious workshop.

"Ahem. Engineer?"

"Mmh!"

Spy's eyebrows jumped as he got greeted by Pyro.

"Bonsoir Pyro. I am looking for Engineer. Is he here?"

Pyro nodded. He raised his index finger as if to ask Spy for a minute. The Frenchman nodded in thanks. He put a hand in his vest pocket and got his silver case out. He opened it with the tips of his gloved fingers and elegantly took a cigarette.

Clap.

He closed the case and put it back where it always was. He looked up and saw that Pyro was still away. He sighed and lit his cigarette. Spy took a first long drag on it and puffed the air slowly out of his mouth. Through the wreaths of slowly dancing smoke, he exhaled his loneliness and nostalgia. He regretted his time with that lady his thought were still busy with. He wished he could feel all that again. The warmth, both physical and in the heart, the feeling of knowing someone is waiting for you when you come, the feeling of knowing someone cares…

"Oh hey Spah! What can I do for ya?"

"I would like to ask for a small favour if you have the time that is."

"Yeah, sure, what is it?"

Spy didn't know where to start. He took a second to gather his words in English and then said.

"I… I own a cat, you see. And a couple days ago, she went missing."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks. I usually leave the window open for her to come and go as she pleases but in this frightful weather, I would rather keep my windows shut."

"Ah, yeah, it's terribly cold."

"Indeed. So I would like to ask you to build a cat door on my front door as well as the front door at the base."

"Oh, I see."

"Would you be able to do that? I can provide help if necessary."

The short Texan man opened wide eyes behind his goggles. He was surprised that Spy would accept to help him build anything and thought the Frenchman was saying it out of politeness.

"Well, o'course I can but erm…"

"Would you require anything in particular?"

"Nah, it's gonna be alright, I have all I need here but I'm not against you givin' me a hand, pardner!"

"Fine."

Spy removed his jacket and undid the buttons on his cuffs. He rolled up his sleeves.

"So, where do we start?"

Engie turned to grab some tools and put them in a box. He put a hand on his bald head.

"I thought you were kidding when you said you'd help!"

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not. I seldom make jokes."

Engie finished collecting what he needed and turned to face Spy.

"Ah, it's true. But in any case, I won't need your help."

"Are you sure?"

Engineer put his gloved hand on his colleague's shoulder. Spy pulled his nose slightly, grimacing.

"Uh, sorry."

He removed his hand and Spy brushed his shoulder with his glove. He unrolled his sleeves, did the buttons on his cuffs again and put on his jacket.

"But yeah, I'll start with your door and then I'll get busy on the front one. Pyro? Come along pardner, we've got some work to do!"

Pyro clapped his hands excitedly and followed the Texan.

"Many thanks."

"Don't mention it! And good luck to find your cat again."

"You didn't happen to see her by any chance?"

Pyro shook his head.

"What's she like?"

"White, with long hair and blue eyes. She wears a silver collar with her name."

"Nah, sorry, Spah. But if we see her, we'll let you know."

Spy adjusted his collar and nodded in thanks. He left the workshop, followed by his 2 colleagues. They stopped half-way up on the stairs.

"Uhm, I'll need you to open your door and keep it open."

Spy was visibly annoyed but understood he didn't have much choice. He put a hand in his pocket and unlocked his door.

"Thanks."

"De rien."

Engie knelt on the door and started taking some measures, mumbling to himself and to Pyro. Spy stood for an instant and reckoned he should leave them working. He slipped in his smoking room, quickly grabbed a scarf and his coat and exited the base.

He stood outside, despite the cold and lit a cigarette. The night was very calm. The only noise to sometimes bother him was the muffled and distant voices of Soldier, Demo and Scout who were sat in front of the TV, on the other side of the nearby window. Spy looked up. The sky was as dark as blue could get and sprinkled with white stars, glowing shyly in the unreachable distance. He liked a beautiful starry night, especially that shade of blue, the darkest that the eye could distinguish before being completely black. Last time he really took the time to look at the sky, it was after that woman had left him. As he thought about that night, it seemed that the air had a bitter taste. His stomach started aching and his tongue sat uncomfortably in his mouth, as if it was swelling and blocking his breath.

Spy shook his head and put his cigarette back between his lips. He remembered how he used to feel so much more alive, how he used to smile and laugh. He sighed and a cloud of smoke diffused from his lips to the air. Ah, during those days even the cigarettes tasted warm and sweet. Now, they were acidic and burning his trachea and nose. But he liked feeling that pain. He much preferred it over the pain that he had since felt everywhere else in his body, in his heart in particular.

He raised his eyes and adjusted his position, leaning on the wall, shifting his body weight from one leg to the other. He saw a small window with lights and blinked a couple times.

_Ah, le camping car de Sniper._

[Ah, Sniper's van.]

He stared at it for a while. Sometimes he'd see the silhouette of the marksman going right or left. It occupied his thought for a while.

_Je pourrais aller et le remercier pour l'autre jour, pour m'avoir éviter de brûler ou de me retrouver avec une balle dans le crâne… Mais il est tard, et il ne faisait que son travail. Et puis la balle dans l'épaule du Heavy, quelle blague!_

[I could go and thank him for that other day, for saving me from burning or having a bullet lodged in my skull… But it is late, and he was only doing his job. And that bullet in the BLU Heavy's shoulder, what a joke!]

Spy took another drag of his cigarette and shook his head. He raised an eyebrow and smiled with disdain, because that was the only smile he was capable of doing now. Disdain, contempt, pride. The other occasions when he could actually produce a smile that was genuine was when he was with Perle. She understood him so well. When his bed had suddenly emptied and he spent long nights alone, unable to sleep, she was the one to jump on it and stay awake with him until he fell asleep, her big blue eyes glowing shyly in the dark. That cat was a blessing for him. It was a rescue. He had got her even before meeting that woman. He had found her skinny, dirty and aggressive. He knew that all she needed was someone taking care of her, showing her that there was not only evil in this world. And so he did, and now, she was gone too. He took a deep breath and sighed. He had finished his cigarette. He crushed it on the wall next to him and threw it on the ground.

Spy crossed his arms and thought of his cat until the front door next to him opened and broke his train of thought.

"Oh, hey Spah, you can go back to you room before you completely freeze! We finished there. We're gonna work on this one now."

"Merci."

The Frenchman headed for his suite. He looked at the door and indeed, Engie and Pyro had done a good job. There was even a piece of dark red cloth in front of the cat door, matching with its colour. The Texan had thought that Spy would not like to have a bit of his room visible to everyone so he had put that cloth, to still keep the Frenchman's privacy. Spy opened his door and entered. It was now quite late and he needed to sleep.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

As always thanks!

Also, comments are greatly appreciated! :D

See y'all around for Chapter 4 :)


	4. Chapter 4

Another day, another battle session. Spy had hardly slept. The loneliness turned into an obsession for him and he was now in a paradoxical situation. He craved to have as much as a conversation with someone but he couldn't stand the idea of talking to any of his colleagues. He thought about them, one by one, eliminating them for any reason.

_Médic? Weird._

_Heavy? Always with Médic, so weird as well._

_S_ _oldier? Demo? Scout?_

He gagged at the thought.

_Pyro? Engie?_

He pondered for a while as he was running across the battlefield, invisible. He reached for Engie's dispenser and uncloaked.

_Pyro, non. Engie…?_

He thought about the cat door and the cloth on it. Clearly both men didn't interact that much but there seemed to be a strong mutual respect between them.

Spy shook his head as he reloaded his revolver. Non. As much as he respected the labourer, he was already very good friends with Pyro and the Frenchman thought it would be weird for him to step in. He thanked his Texan colleague and ran back to the front, invisible.

The day's session had proved terrible for Spy. The lack of sleep had made him useless. Missed backstabs and bad shots. He gritted his teeth in rage after yet another respawn. But the Administrator soon announced the end of the match and RED's defeat.

\-- RED Base --

The mercenaries did not seem as unhappy as the Frenchman. He headed for his room.

"Spy?"

He stopped walking. He was about half-way through the corridor and about to take the steps down. He turned.

"When you have a minute, come t'me van. I got some'in for ya."

Spy nodded and went to his room. It did puzzle him.

_Qu'est-ce qu'il me veut lui aussi? Comme si je n'avais pas assez de problème comme ça._ _[What does he want from me? As if I didn't have enough problems as it were.]_

He slammed the door of his suite shut. He took a long and cold shower, to shake what little life remained in him and get his blood flowing a bit. He changed into a clean suit and while doing his tie, he stared at himself in the mirror. Something reflected the light of his lamp on the mirror, and then directly in his eye. He turned around and released his grip on the silk tie.

_Merde, elle est toujours là._ _[Shit, she's still there.]_

It was a framed picture of him and that woman. He walked to it and grabbed it angrily.

"Pourquoi tu me regardes comme ça, hein? Tu n'en as pas assez de me faire souffrir? Tu ne te lasses pas?! Tu n'es pas fatiguée!?"

["Why do you stare at me like that, hm? You haven't had enough of making me suffer like that? Are you not fed up?! Are you not tired?!"]

The mute picture of him and her smile made him sick. He stared at it, feeling something boiling inside. It was boiling and rising, like milk that you leave too long in a pan on the stove.

"Pourquoi tu t'acharnes?!"

["Why do you stay and harass me?!""]

He was now shouting and breathed louder. He heard her answer in his head, she spoke in a very calm voice

_C'est toi qui me gardes, imbécile._ _[It's you who are keeping me, moron.]_

He frowned and gritted his teeth. His lips trembled and his knees were going weak.

_Pourquoi tu me gardes? Je te manque peut-être?_ _[Why do you keep me? Perhaps you miss me?]_

"AAAAARGH!"

In a fit of rage, Spy threw the framed picture at the fireplace. It shattered to smithereens. The clinging noise it made was relieving for him. He broke something outside him to mend something inside. He stared at the flames as they slowly devoured the picture. He came closer to the fireplace and knelt down to watch it. Everything around him had disappeared for those couple minutes which seemed like eternity for him. He didn't know if he was relieved or even more pained. He watched silently and held his breath as the bright orange flames danced on the picture, gnawing on it. The edges turned black and the dark consumed the picture from the edges to the center, slowly, as it did the poor man's soul. The flames came to her. He stared as every inch of her face turned black, the paper twisting slightly under the flames as if it was begging Spy to have mercy. He had none. He watched gravely as the remaining evidence of his biggest mistake yet disappeared with a soft crackling noise that stung his ears sharply, like a millions thin needles.

_Elle est partie, elle ne reviendra pas, je ne la reverrai plus._ _[She's gone, she will not come back, I will not see her ever again.]_

Silence fell in the room and suddenly, Spy breathed loudly and quickly. He had spent the past minutes holding his breath and his body could not bear it anymore. He took a minute to catch his breath and blink repeatedly, as if he was waking up from a nightmare. He looked around him.

No one.

It's in those moments that he missed Perle the most. He would have talked to her and it would have helped. He turned his head and looked in the mirror. His tie was still around his neck and still undone.

_Pourquoi je mettais ma cravate…? Ah oui, Sniper._ _[Why was I putting on a tie again…? Ah yes, Sniper.]_

He put a hand on the floor and the other on his knee and pushed himself to stand up. Spy finished dressing up and took his scarf and coat. He opened his door to exit his suite.

"Oh?"

"Ah, sorry Spah, are you alright?"

As soon as he had opened the door, he stumbled upon Engie who was right behind it. Spy opened wide surprised eyes.

"Sorry, pardner, I just heard a shout and I thought I might come to check if you were alright?"

Spy exhaled from his nose and closed his eyes for a split second.

"Oui, I'm fine. Thank you."

Engie clearly saw that his colleague was lying but did not push. He looked up at him.

"Ah, alrighty then, sorry for botherin' ya."

Spy nodded, he turned to lock his door and made his way to Sniper's van. He climbed the few steps to the corridor up, crossed it and heard some of his colleagues arguing in front of the TV again. He soon faced the front door and saw the cat door at the bottom of it. It hurt him physically for a second. He frowned and opened the door.

Sniper had parked quite close to the base so Spy did not have to bear with the cold for too long before reaching it. As he arrived he looked up at the roof. An owl was perched there and looking at him with big round eyes. Spy's eyes went down again, at the van's backdoor in front of him and knocked.

"Come in!"

Spy put his hand on the handle and turned. He entered the van. He was surprised as it definitely looked more spacious on the inside. The decoration was not what he himself would have put but it felt like home and corresponded with what he knew of Sniper. The man was simple. Spy's eyes scanned the van in the blink of an eye and he saw everything, the framed pictures of Sniper with his parents, the couple kukris hung on the wall, the unwashed dishes and the bed undone. He looked up at his colleague and realised that it was one of the first times he saw him without his hat. The Australian was taller than him, his skin was also slightly darker and showed the lines of someone who stands in the sun for long. He was not well shaved but his beard was very short.

_Une barbe de 3 jours._

A 3-day beard as they say in French with quite unique sideburns. Spy had never seen anyone wear those ones before his colleague. They were completely out of his kind of fashion but somehow suited Sniper. His eyes were blue but much darker than Spy and they had laughter lines at the corner. The Frenchman thought that his colleague was only a couple years younger than himself. He looked at his hair and saw that the Australian had brown hair which slightly turned towards lighter brown, almost ginger under the room's main light. But no grey or white hair, not even on the temples. Definitely younger than Spy...

"Evenin' mate, shut the door behind you, would ya? It's hard enough to keep it warm."

Spy nodded and obeyed. He unrolled the scarf around his mouth and looked up at Sniper, who was about a foot taller than him.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, uhm uh…"

The Australian didn't know how to start his sentence. He put a hand on the back of his neck and scratched it nervously.

"Well? I don't have all day."

Sniper raised his index and turned his back. He went to his bed and soon came back.

"Perle?!"

The Australian was carrying the white cat in his arms. Spy jumped forward and took her in his.

"How did you find her?! I've been looking for her for days!"

The cat meowed and purred as the Frenchman stroked her excitedly as if to make sure that he was not dreaming.

"Well, she found me a couple days ago. I had left my window open during the day and she must have jumped in. When I came back after work, I found her on me bed."

Spy was overjoyed he found his companion again.

"Tu m'as fait une de ces peurs…! Ne me refais jamais ça s'il te plaît, tu entends? J'étais mort d'inquiétude!"

["You scared me so much…! Don't ever do that again, please, do you hear me? I was dead worried!"]

Sniper smiled. He had no idea what Spy had just said meant but he certainly looked delighted to have found his cat again.

"She went away the next day but kept on comin' back. I fed her what I could, thinkin' that she'd eventually go back to wherever she came from."

"How did you know she is mine?"

Sniper raised an eyebrow.

"Who would own such a fluffy snow white cat? A cross between a Maine Coon and a Persian! No offense mate, but it could only be you!"

"Wait, you know her breed?"

"Yeah, pretty obvious if you ask me. Must have cost you a fortune. Those are about as expensive as you can get for white cats."

Spy was impressed at Sniper's knowledge. He himself did not know Perle's breed.

"I didn't have to pay a single cent for her."

"Whot?"

"I rescued her when she was but a very young kitten. I actually did not know her breed until today. Merci."

"Oh…"

"Also, if she costs as much as you say, I have now the absolute certainty that on top of being the most evil and cruel people, Perle's previous owners were also absolutely stupid. Such people disgust me. Who would abandon such a lovely lady?"

It surprised Sniper. He was sure that Spy was one of those idiots who thought that having money allowed them to behave inhumanely. But no. It turned out the snobbish man in the suit had a heart, somewhere.

"Also, I looked at her neck and the collar says 'Perlee'...?"

"Perle."

Spy corrected.

"It means 'pearl' in English."

"Ah, yes, 'Perle'."

Sniper made an effort for the hard French 'r' in the cat's name which distorted his face humorously and without realising it, Spy nodded in appreciation.

"And yeah, that didn't sound very English as a name. Didn't look German or Russian either. Also I realised the collar was made of actual silver and the engravin' of her name is quite stylish."

"Thank you."

Sniper opened wide eyes and pointed at it.

"You did that?"

Spy nodded.

"Oh, blimey, you got some talent there, mate."

The Frenchman smiled.

"Well, thank you for taking care of her for these past few days. I hope she was not too much of an inconvenience."

Sniper raised his hand.

"Nah, not at all. She's one of those fancy cats that people like you keep indoors most the time."

"You are wrong. She comes and goes as she wishes."

"Really?"

"I would hate to deprive her of her freedom and she usually always comes back."

"Oh, alroight."

Again, Sniper got surprised. Not only did his posh colleague respect his pet to the extent of calling her a lady, but his also respected the fact that she was animal and as such, she needed her freedom.

"It's the first she doesn't come home after a day since…"

Spy stopped for a split second.

"...a long time."

Sniper understood that Spy had struck a nerve. He switched subjects to lighten the atmosphere.

"I-I like animals. I myself have a pet owl, Hootsy. That's for him I leave the window open sometimes."

"Ah, I see. Thank you."

Spy turned to exit the van but a last question occurred to him.

"Uhm, Sniper?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you hold her for a second?"

"Sure."

He came closer to the Frenchman, took Perle in his arms and scratched her head. Spy stared at his cat and without his eyes leaving her, he took a step back.

"Uhm.. Are you alroight?"

The Frenchman tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, frowning. He put his hands on his hips.

"She usually never lets anyone come near her. She didn't hiss, she didn't complain…"

He stopped talking for an instant and both heard her purring.

"And she's purring now!"

Sniper smiled.

"Yeah, well, I'm quite good with animals in general. Not so good with people though."

Spy smiled and took his cat back.

"Thank you again Sniper."

"No worries. Uhm, Spy can I ask…?"

"Hm?"

Sniper looked at Spy but his eyes were averting his gaze. He was fiddling with his fingers.

"Earlier today, you were uhm… not as good as usual… Are-are you ok?"

Sniper saw Spy's stance change in an instant. He straightened his back, his gaze hardened and he resumed a colder behaviour. He did not like the fact that Sniper clearly criticised his job and took it quite personally.

"I am perfectly fine. Good night."

The Frenchman turned on his heels, his cat in his arms, and exited the van. He went through the cold between the van and the base without rolling his scarf around his mouth. His rage and anger warmed him up enough.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks as always! And please do leave a comment, it pushes me to keep going! :D

See you all for Chapter 5 :)


	5. Chapter 5

Spy came back to his suite and slammed the door behind him. He dropped Perle on the ground gently. She meowed.

"Assez. Tu m'as assez causé d'ennuis comme ça. Si j'étais toi, je me tiendrais à carreaux pour les prochains jours!"

[Enough. You caused me enough trouble as it is. If I were you, I would make sure I behave at least for the next few days.]

"Meow?"

Spy sighed. He removed his scarf and coat and threw them on the coat hanger. The Frenchman walked decidedly to his armchair and dropped himself on it. He looked at the bottle of wine.

_Je ne devrais pas. Et de toute façon, je suis trop fatigué pour ça._

_[I should not and in any case, I am too tired for it.]_

He wanted to drown his hatred of himself in the smooth and dark embrace of wine. But he had to work the next day and he was already sleep deprived. So he decided against it. He leant back in his armchair, undid his tie and opened the first button of his shirt. He stared lazily at the orange flames in his dark red room.

"Meow?"

Perle jumped on his lap. He looked down at her, sadly.

"Pardon, je te présente mes excuses pour tout à l'heure, je me suis emporté comme un idiot. Tu n'as rien fait de mal, au contraire."

["Sorry, I do apologise for what I said earlier, I let the anger speak for me, like an idiot. You did nothing wrong, on the contrary."]

As if she was satisfied with the apologies, Perle laid on her master's lap and purred under his fingers, moving her tail slowly sometimes. She stared at him with her big blue eyes.

"Quoi?"

[What?]

" _Rrrrrrrr_ "

She purred.

"Pourquoi tu me regardes comme ça?"

["Why do you stare at me like that?"]

He read her thoughts in her eyes and in her body language. The way she moved her eyelids, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast. The waves of her tail and how her long hair brushed the air.

_Tu as aimé discuter avec lui._

_[You enjoyed chatting with him.]_

He could hear her speaking in his head.

"Non."

She blinked and slightly raised her head.

_N'essaie pas de me mentir._

_[Don't try to lie to me.]_

"Je n'ai pas la tête à ça. D'ailleurs je n'ai la tête à rien du tout. Je vais me coucher."

[I don't have time or energy to play games. I don't have the time or energy to do anything. I'm going to bed.]

She jumped down and followed Spy to his bedroom. He quickly slipped into his pyjamas and laid on the bed. Perle laid next to him. The whole suite seemed lifeless and was in deep silence. In the dark blue night, the Frenchman put his hand on Perle's back. He needed to feel her there, with him. He shivered but heard her pur. It soothed his nerves. He closed his eyes and whispered.

"Merci Perle, merci beaucoup."

[Thanks Perle, thanks a lot.]

\-- _The next day, on the battlefield_ \--

Spy had slept much better. Also, he managed to find a radio station that was not broadcasting complete garbage and by that, the Frenchman meant that he had found a station that was broadcasting French songs. The talks and news sessions were held in English with a nonetheless strong French accent. It was not much but waking up to that changed him completely. He felt like another man and it changed him on the battlefield too!

"Oh, wow! Thanks pardner, I hadn't seen that snake coming!"

Spy managed to backstab the BLU Spy before he did the Engineer.

"You are an amateur and a fool!"

The Frenchman said as his BLU counterpart collapsed on the floor, a knife between his shoulder blades. Spy dusted his suit and adjusted his tie.

"Woah, someone is in a jolly good mood today, ain't ya Spah?"

The Frenchman smiled proudly.

"Now if you'll excuse me, there are still some backs to stab."

He bowed elegantly and vanished in thin air silently.

"Sentry ahead Doktor!"

"I don't have a charge yet Heavy! It shouldn't take much longer!"

Spy heard the conversation as everyone was equipped with an earpiece. He looked around to assess the situation. The BLU Engineer was standing between his sentry and his dispenser. RED were outnumbered. The BLU Demo and Soldier had gone on an impressive killstreak. Spy's eyes scanned his enemies' movements as well as his colleagues.

"READY TO CHARGE!"

"NOW DOKTOR!"

The RED Medic flipped a switch and Spy sighed in relief. Surely the Russian could take down that sentry.

"Aaaah!"

"Doktor!?"

The BLU Pyro had emerged and had blown the RED Medic away from his patient, leaving Heavy without the uber and taking the bullets from the sentry. Soon he collapsed and the RED Medic burnt to a crisp. Spy frowned. He looked behind him and saw the Demo and Solly from his team who had just respawned and were about to go in the battle.

"Wait, gentlemen, I have an idea!"

They stopped and looked around they could only see the outline of their invisible colleague.

"What?!"

"Soldier, you go at the front and distract the sentry. Demoman, hide here and wait for my signal."

"And the bloody Pyro?"

"I said wait there for my command!"

"Right."

The American rocket jumped and landed a rocket on the wall next to the sentry.

"BLU ENGIE, STOP HIDING BEHIND YOUR TOYS AN COME FIGHT LIKE A MAN!"

The BLU Texan man laughed devilishly.

Spy was crossing the map and going for the Pyro first. He was out of Engie's sight so he swiftly backstabbed him and disguised as him. He then met with the BLU Engie and stood next to the dispenser as if to refill on ammunition.

"Hey, Pyro look at that dummy shooting rockets at the sentry while I repair it."

Spy smiled and licked his lips in anticipation.

"Maybe you are the dummy?"

Engie gasped and was about to turn his back but too late. The knife was already there. Spy then quickly sapped all the equipment.

"Now Demoman!"

"FREEEEEDOOOOM!"

The Scottish cyclops sticky jumped and while in the air landed his 4 pills on the buildings which shattered in a loud buzzing and metallic clinging. Spy cloaked again and escaped, a big smile on his face. He met with the BLU Sniper. He wasn't equipped with his razorback. Spy grinned maliciously. He nonetheless noticed that there was no red dot on the wall or anywhere around the BLU Sniper.

_Merde, Sniper ne l'a pas encore vu…_

_[Shit, Sniper doesn't know where he is yet… ]_

The BLU sharpshooter was grinning.

"Oi, RED Snoipah, I'll give you somethin' between your two eyes, you'll think twice before crossing my sightli-aaargh!".

"You disgust me filthy jar-man."

Spy said, his nose pulled back in contempt. The BLU Sniper's corpse fell, lifeless and behind stood the RED Frenchman, proud of his accomplishment.

And for the rest of the round, it felt like he was flying over the map, untouchable, planting his knife from back to back as easily as picking flowers from a park!

The BLU team grew more and more paranoid and had switched for a strategy with not 2 but 3 Pyros.

_Ah, un défi!_

_[Ah, a challenge!]_

The Frenchman smirked. He watched as the payload looked like it was going through hell itself with all the flames flowing around it. Spy-checking had clearly become the number one priority for the BLUs.

"Heavy, can you get rid of those Pyros for me, s'il vous plaît?"

[Please?]

Heavy nodded.

"Behind me doctor!"

"Ja!"

The RED Heavy marched forward and revved his minigun. He started firing at the first Pyro when…

BOOM!

The Russian was hit in the skull by the BLU Sniper. Medic met the same fate as he was trying to flee the 3 flamethrowers pointed at him.

"Sniper! Top left!"

Spy shouted and thanks to the earpiece, from the other end of the map, the RED Sniper took a split second to aim and hit his counterpart, through the head. The RED trail after the bullet exited his Machina was not an issue anymore, now that the BLU Sniper was down and thus knew anyway where the RED marksman was standing.

"Thanks Spy!"

"Can you deal with the pyros too?"

"They're out of my line of sight, mate."

Sniper reloaded.

"You only have to ask!"

Spy disguised as one of the Pyros and baited them where the RED Sniper could hit them. The Australian closed one eye and held his breath.

BOOM!

The bullet flew through the air and pierced the 3 Pyros who had lined up. The first one in the head, the second in the shoulder and the last in the neck but as it was a charged Machina shot, the three of them collapsed instantly.

"Wave goodbye to yer heads, wankas!"

Shouted Sniper from his nest. Spy was flabbergasted. He stood there for a while, his eyes and mouth wide open. He trusted his colleague to take them out, yes, but not with a single bullet!

"Mon Dieu…!"

[My God…!]

He didn't have much time to rest as he saw the enemy who had respawned running at him. He cloaked and left.

\-- _RED Base_ \--

The whole team was in a great mood as they had won all their rounds on that day. Most of them were enjoying a game of cards after dinner. Sniper also had joined, even though he kept his tinted glasses on. Nobody questioned it. They had played a couple rounds of poker but soon decided to exclude Spy. His duping abilities and his excellent mood turned him into a redoubtable opponent.

"You sure you don't mind Spah?"

The Frenchman lit a cigarette and smiled.

"Not at all, do not worry, you have your fun."

"Well next time I'll bleed you dry!"

Spy smiled at his youngest colleague.

"You can but try!"

He wished his colleagues a good evening and went to his suite. He did not want to go to sleep directly. He removed his mask and gloves, his jacket too, and undid his tie. As much as he could not go anywhere without a suit and tie, he preferred the comfort of a simple shirt when he was home. He carded his hair quickly like a reflex, without thinking and turned on his radio.

_Ah, de la bonne musique…_

_[Ah, some good music…]_

The station was broadcasting some Charles Aznavour and it felt like honey to Spy's ears, who went and sat on his armchair. He already had a couple glasses of wine so he decided against having any more. He looked at the flames with a smile. They looked and felt new. It was the same fire, the same room, the same everything, but the energy diffused by the fireplace was completely different. It reminded the Frenchman of his much younger days, when it was all about enjoying life and its gifts to the full, without having much responsibilities. Where did those days go?

He leant back on the armchair and sighed. Those days were long gone but he smiled, thinking about them. He was young, much younger. Spy turned his head and looked at the mirror. His eyes stared intensely at himself and he could see it. His much longer hair, the absence of grey or white on his front tufts and temples, the lines on his skin disappeared and his skin was slightly more tanned. It was the summer in Bordeaux and the city looked its best under the sunlight and clear sky.

Lucien had a couple friends he used to spend his time with. They were roughly his age, some a bit younger and others a bit older. That summer day, he had just got out of the police station. He had been in trouble for participating in a fight club. Despite his slender silhouette, he was the most furtive of his friends and the most cunning which is why, each time he took part in a fight, his friends would put money on him. No matter the size and shape of his opponent, he would seldom lose and always outwit them.

So that day, he got out of the police station and found his friends waiting for him in front of it. He put his worn out bérêt on his head and adjusted his old jacket, looking disdainfully back at the police station. He spat on the pavement in front of it and shouted.

"Et allez vous faire foutre!"

[And go fuck yourselves!]

It was now a very well established tradition. Every couple of weeks, sometimes days even, he would get arrested for his fights. The local police knew him well and treated him like the scoundrel he was apart from one officer who would actually spend some nights chatting with him. The young Frenchman would sometimes get arrested for having drunk too much and causing trouble to the good folk of Bordeaux. He would then be put in a "cellule de dégrisement". That's the fancy French phrase for "locking you behind bars the whole night to sober up." That was when that police officer started chatting with the young man and got to know him.

But little did the police know that the young Lucien, or Lulu for his friends, was also a skilled thief! On market days, to offer something to his lady of the moment or even for himself, he would stroll through the alleys of the bustling market and in plain sight, some items would simply vanish. They were often taken off the stands but even sometimes from people's very bags, purses and pockets, especially when he was in need of money! And if the handsome young man usually got caught for fights and drinking a little bit too much, he never did when it came to stealing, may it be goods or hearts.

Spy lit a cigarette and took a drag. He blew the smoke in a circular ring and he stared lazily at it floating away with dreamy eyes. He remembered how his good looks and manners would get him into trouble too. He was the most handsome of his gang of friends and the best smooth talker of them too and a lot of ladies, mostly those who came from a much better upbringing than his, would fall for him. And it flattered him. Lucien knew that they were charmed by the young handsome man of the street, the scoundrel, the fighter, the one who would get in trouble with the law for a lady, the one who would show up with a bunch of flowers that he no doubt had stolen and a black eye. Well, he was not doing it for them at all but he would not tell them that. Non. And did it matter in the end, whether he did steal and fight for them or just for him? Of course not. Love conquests had turned to be the only challenge he had at the time because it did not just rely on him. It relied on someone else as well. The harder the lady was to get, the more he enjoyed it. Was she already in love, was she wearing an engagement ring or even married? All the better! He could not resist a good game of flirt and particularly enjoyed it when the flirting partner could rival with his smooth talk. And that's when he perfected himself in the art of lying. He mastered the art of saying incomplete truths, metaphors, poetry even sometimes and all that without having read a word about it anywhere. But that was his strength. Lucien was self-taught and everything he learnt, he was proud to say that he owed it to no-one.

“Meow?”

Perle had jumped on his lap and laid there. Spy looked at her smiling.

“Tu as passé une bonne journée?”

[Have you had good day?]

“Meow.”

He stared at her and her magnificent big blue eyes and again, he read in them.

_Tu es de très bonne humeur à ce que je vois? Ca fait plaisir à voir._

_[I see you are in a very good mood? It’s lovely to see.]_

She purred loudly and brushed her head against her owner's hand.

"Ah, j'allais oublier!"

[Ah, I almost forgot!]

Perle jumped out of his lap for him to stand. The Frenchman went to a cupboard and took the cat treats. The lady cat immediately understood and started meowing more and more.

"Tiens ma chérie."

[There you go sweetheart.]

Spy crouched down and fed her a couple treats directly from his hand. He looked at her and listened to the soft crunching of the brown biscuits between her white teeth. He smiled and added a couple to her bowl of food. The Frenchman stood back up, closed the pack of teats and stored it away. He went back to his sofa and enjoyed the music from his radio. It was now Françoise Hardy.

_Quelle voix, quel délice..._

_[What a voice, what a delight...]_

The Frenchman was too deeply absorbed in the music to notice Perle going out. The cat had taken a couple treats in her mouth and had silently left her master's place. She trotted through the corridor and exited the base. She saw the light in the van and the window was ajar. She elegantly jumped on the windowsill and pushed the window completely open.

"Meow?"

Sniper was washing the dishes and saw the feline appear at his window, right in front him.

"Oh, evenin' Pearl."

She dropped inside the van, on the counter, next to the tall man and sat there, watching him washing and rinsing. He smiled at her and she blinked, opened her charming blue eyes at him.

"Roight, there you go. Dishes? Done. Now…"

He wiped his hands on a tea towel and bent slightly to be at eye level with Perle. She delicately dropped the couple of treats she was carrying on the counter.

He looked at them intensely.

"Oh, you brought me a gift? That's very noice of you, mate… And that's expensive stuff eh! Thanks, Pearl."

The cat walked closer to him on the counter. She meowed a couple of times and he took one of the treats in his hand, stroking her head.

"But it's late, Ma'am. You should go back to your master before he gets too worried."

She purred under the Australian's hand.

"Actually, now that I think about it, he was awfully worried, anxious even, when you were away.".

He sat on his worn out couch. Perle jumped on the ground and then on his lap.

"He seems to care a lot about you, eh."

He scratched her head and she purred, blinking slowly.

"He said you were a rescue. Who would throw such an expensive cat on the street? Who would throw any cat in the street?!"

" _Rrrr… Rrrr… Rrrr…_ "

"I don't get it but then again, neither did he."

"Hoo?"

Sniper raised his head and saw Hootsy at his window.

"Ah! Was about bloody time you showed up! Whot time d'you call this eh?"

The bird saw the cat treats and landing on the counter, he took one. Sniper gasped. He looked at Perle, expecting her to hiss and chase the bird but no. She was looking at Sir Hootsalot, or Hootsy, very calmly. The night bird went on Sniper's shoulder.

"Oh, so those treats were for Hootsy and me?"

The owl jumped down on Sniper's lap and curled at Perle's side. The Australian smiled.

"Oh, look at you two! I would never have thought you could get along."

He scratched both their heads and felt delighted. He felt lucky, privileged even, as if he realised that he was the one amongst millions that Mother Nature had chosen. He was that one man who was so good with animals he could make a wild owl and a posh cat get along. He felt proud, forgetting for a moment that such a gift came at a dear price. He was kind and good, yes, _with animals._

With people however, he was constantly torn between two behaviours. On one hand, he was endowed with too much empathy and on the other, he had always been awkward and shy. The only times when communicating wasn't too much of an issue was on the battlefield, because then, he was talking to classes, not really to people. Earlier that day, when he got the 3 pyros with one bullet, he had talked to Spy shortly, yes. Even when he bothered going out of his nest to refill on ammunition at the dispenser, he would talk to Engie. But he would always keep it short and to the point. That way, he felt more comfortable. It was as if he was speaking to robots more than human beings even though, deep down, he wished he could afford to see people with the same kind eye as he saw animals. Countless times he did try in the past, and part of him still does. He was what one might call, hypersensitive, and if he was immune to some things like the sight of gore and blood, he was cursed with the ability to read other people's emotions very quickly and feel them himself. As a teenager and very young man, it made him feel bad, fragile, almost emotionally handicapped. But over the years, he grew a thick skin and taught himself how to discard those feelings.

"Meow?"

Perle's meow broke Sniper's daydream.

"Uh? Yeah, yeah, let's get you back home, pretty cat. Hootsy, you be a good boy while I'm away."

He put on a warm jacket, his glasses and hat, took Perle in his arms and left his van. He crossed the space between his van and the base quickly. He opened the door and entered. His colleagues were still in the living room, as he could hear their voices. He crossed the corridor directly and took the first few steps down. He was about to knock at the door with the knife symbol on it when something prevented him from doing so.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thank you all for your kudos and your comment, it really makes a massive difference :) !!

Feel free to let me know what you think of this one :)

Also if you're of age, you're welcome to join my discord server! We're a small group of Sniper/Spy fans and that's where I keep people posted about my progress through the chapters :) !

Link is usual and in the end: /BPbVqct


	6. Chapter 6

Sniper was about to knock when he heard a muffled noise. He got his ear closer to the door, held his breath and listened for a while.

_He's… singin'?!_

The Frenchman had put the volume of his radio louder and was indeed singing. Sniper could not distinguish the words but the sounds clearly indicated that his colleague was singing in his mother tongue. He got curious and secretly wished there was a peephole on the door. What he did not know is that had there been one, he would have not only seen the Frenchman sing but dance.

Spy was not himself anymore and surrendered to the other drug he had been addicted to his whole life, besides nicotine: music. He was not the masked secret agent anymore. He was Lucien, singer in Parisian restaurants again. As he spun around, arms wide open, he saw the dark red wallpaper of his room fade to become the dark blue decor of the latest place he had sung for. It was one of Paris' best and most posh restaurants, located on the Champs-Élysées themselves. Only important, rich and famous people came to have dinner there and Lucien had managed to get hired as a singer. He remembered how it all happened. He had started singing in local cafés but his voice and manners would always get him in trouble…with the lady customers. So he went from restaurant to restaurant, earning barely enough to rent a room as spacious as a sardine tin can. He had moved away from his original city of Bordeaux and thus had lost contact with his friends. One night, he had been singing as usual and was walking home. It was as dark as it could get but still warm. He put his hands in his pockets and decided to take the long route home. Lucien soon found himself on the Champs-Élysées which were still busy despite the late hour. He looked at his right, at the shops that he could not even afford to spell the name! The French haute-couture shops, Coco Chanel, Christian Dior, Yves-Saint-Laurent, Jean-Paul Gauthier… He sighed and dreamt of his life working as a great clothes designer, surrounded by people who believed you had a gift, a superior and godly ability to express yourself through clothing, to have top models as your canvas to paint emotions through colours and textures… Oh Lucien would have loved such a life but he was not born with the luck and money to pursue such a career. The young man looked at his right again. A couple of restaurants and nightclubs were still opened and he overheard a conversation between some customers sitting outside.

"Depuis qu'il est parti, cet établissement a perdu son charme, c'est fou!"

["Since he left, this establishment lost all its charm, it's mad!"]

"Ah, il chantait si bien…! Avoir les musiciens sans le chanteur, c'est complètement absurde!"

[Ah, he used to sing so well! Having the band without the singer is completely absurd.]

"Je vais vous dire, c'est là qu'on se rend compte que c'est lui qui sublimait toute la scène."

[Let me tell you, that's when you realise that was keeping it all together and transforming it into something else!]

"Mais bien sûr."

[But of course.]

Lucien stopped walking a lit a cheap cigarette. He leant against a nearby tree and still listened to the conversation. A waiter came to those clients.

"Nous sommes désolés mais nous allons partir."

[We are very sorry but we have to leave.]

"M'enfin Monsieur le Ministre, vous prendrez bien un petit quelque chose avant?"

[But Minister, Sir, you can't leave without having anything?]

"Non, la seule raison pour laquelle je venais régulièrement, c'était la voix incroyable de Monsieur Antoine, et il est parti!"

[No, the only reason why I kept on visiting frequently was Monsieur Antoine's incredible show, and now he is gone!]

The waiter lowered his head and his face was screaming defeat. The Minister and his guests stood up and adjusted their hats and coats.

"Vous êtes les n-ièmes clients à partir ce soir à cause de ça…"

[You are the hundredth clients to leave tonight because of that…]

The waiter said sadly. The important men around him looked like it was the least of their concerns and were about to leave when…

"Attendez."

[Wait.]

Lucien had thrown his cigarette away and stepped out of the shadow of the tree.

"Vous voulez un chanteur avec une voix unique?"

[You want a singer with a unique voice?]

The Minister looked half surprised, half annoyed at this random layman's intrusion.

"Oui, Monsieur mais-"

[Yes, Sir, but-]

The waiter was about to argue when Lucien raised his head and looked at the men who were about his height, dead in the eye. His eyes were shining fiercely under the low street lights.

"Eh bien je suis votre homme et je n'ai pas une mais mille voix."

[Well then I am your man and I don't have one but a thousand voices.]

The Minister and his guests burst into laughter, the waiter could not hold back a mocking smile.

"Vous?"

[You?]

Lucien smiled devilishly. He cleared his throat.

" _Oui, Monsieur le Ministre, je possède bien mille voix et la vôtre en fait désormais partie._ "

_[Yes, Minister, as you can see I really do possess a thousand voices and from now on yours is one of them_.]

Lucien had imitated the big and plump man who was only taller than him because of his hat. The Minister had instantly lost his smile and was genuinely impressed. The younger man smirked and stuck his chest out in pride.

"Bon, je reviendrai demain pour une audition, à quelle heure pourrai-je trouver le chef de cet établissement?"

[Well then, I will come back tomorrow for an audition. At what time will I be able to find the director of this place free to listen to me?]

The waiter was speechless. He took a couple seconds to answer, tripping on his own words.

"Vers 10h… A-avant le service de-de midi…"

[Around 10am… B-before the lunch round…]

Lucien put a hand on his bérêt and smiled, nodding to say goodbye. He walked back home, his heart buzzing with excitement and impatience. He had been bold, very much so. He could have been arrested on the spot! As he knew, anything was a pretext to get him arrested. But not this time. This time, he had turned it into a opportunity, a priceless one, one that you get once in a lifetime. He was an audition away from making it! Oh he could see himself already! Posters with his face all across Paris.

"Le Grand Lucien au célèbre restaurant Le Conquérant sur les Champs-Élysées."

["The Great Lucien at the famous restaurant The Conqueror on the Champs-Élysées."]

He had arrived a couple minutes early the next day. He stood facing the golden letters which spelled, in the style of a majestic cursive handwriting: Le Conquérant. Lucien thought that the restaurant was wearing a brave name for a place which was about to fall for his talents! He knocked at the restaurant's door and waited patiently. Someone came.

"Monsieur?"

"Je viens pour l'audition."

[I come for the audition.]

"Ah, très bien, suivez-moi."

[Ah, very well, follow me.]

He was showed inside and did his best to hide his amazement. Lucien had never seen or dreamt of such a wealthy dining area for a restaurant. The floor was wooden and the walls were navy blue with golden fleur-de-lis. From his younger days at school, he remembered that that particular flower was the symbol of the French monarchy and later, the French Empire. He stuck his chest out and felt proud as if he himself was Napoléon marching and conquering the 75 Avenue des Champs-Élysées. The pride he felt walking in such a luxurious decor even changed his gait. He walked confidently, almost as if he owned the place. This was the sort of environment he wanted to work in! Not some local bistrot!

"Montez sur scène, Monsieur Duchemin arrive."

[Go on stage, Monsieur Duchemin will come shortly.]

Lucien nodded and jumped the couple steps to climb on the stage. He walked to the middle of it, next to the piano and removed his bérêt. The young man raised his head to take in the wide room in front of him. A spotlight switched on and illuminated him. He rested his weight on his right leg and looked proudly at the tables scattered in front of him. The silver cutlery was shining shyly, the white satin tablecloth was trembling in anticipation and the velvet seats were waiting for his show. He could feel it. He was not realising it but he was slightly grinning. Lucien had come not for a job, but for a life, a new one, a better one, one he could lead completely freely.

Monsieur Duchemin appeared in the dining room. He was a tall and square-built man. He was dressed sharp with a dark blue suit and tie, a white handkerchief sticking out of his front pocket on his suit jacket.

"Monsieur, je vous préviens, je n'ai pas de temps à vous accorder."

[Sir, be warned I have no time to spare for you.]

Lucien pricked his ears up and focused.

_Accent Parisien, un léger cheveux sur la langue, une voix de ténor…_

_[Parisian accent, a slight lisp and a tenor voice…]_

"On m'a dit que vous saviez imiter?"

[I was told you know how to imitate people.]

Lucien looked up at him. He could hardly see him because of the spotlight but he nonetheless stared intensely where the rich man's eyes were.

" _On ne vous a pas menti._ "

[ _Well you were not lied to.]_

He imitated him back. The man opened wide eyes and smirked.

"Ah! Eh bien voilà qui est nouveau! Mais nous cherchons un chanteur, non un imitateur."

[Ah! Well that is quite new! But we are looking for a singer, not an imitator.]

"C'est ma principale profession."

[That is my main job.]

Monsieur Duchemin raised an eyebrow.

"Et bien allez-y, chantez-moi quelque chose."

[Well then, sing me something.]

Lucien looked left and right. He knew he had to prove himself now. He needed to succeed, to get it right and absolutely so. He needed to blow Duchemin's mind away.

"Vous pouvez utiliser le micro et voulez peut-être un accompagnement? Du piano, ça vous va?"

[You can use that mic there and might want someone to accompany you? Would a piano do?]

Lucien nodded and someone appeared from backstage. They sat on the piano and looked at him. Lucien took a deep breath and grabbed the mic in front of him. Given the type of restaurant, he needed something classy, something elegant. Something that everybody knew and loved and something where he could show his voice off. A classic, a classic sung by one of those voice where you need to sing your lungs out and the words fly and rain down on people's heart like a million arrows. But one can't just sing a classic, it had to be flawless. Ah, he knew what to sing. _Comme d'habitude_ it will be. The song that Sinatra had transformed into "My Way.".

" _Je me lève, et je te bouscule,_

_[I get up and slightly jostle you]_

_Tu ne te réveilles pas, comme d'habitude!"_

_[But you don't wake up, as usual]_

He started singing quite low and used the first verse to warm his voice up and relax his muscle, stretch them sometimes. Duchemin seemed bored but Lucien knew exactly what he was doing. When the chorus came, he relaxed and sang louder. Duchemin opened wide eyes again and that was exactly what Lucien needed to boost his confidence even more and for him to utterly give in to the piano playing behind. He started walking on the stage, making it his own. He opened his arms, clenched his fist and put it on his heart, closing his eyes and mastering the vibrato in his voice. He was improvising his choreography on the fly, his movements and his facial expressions accompanying his voice and the lyrics.

The final chorus came and Lucien put the microphone back on its stand and walked away from it. He opened his arms wide, took a deep breath and he sang the final lines as if his very life depended on it, with an intensity that he rarely showed, that force inside him that was burning and yearning to beat the odds. The poor scoundrel who would make it despite everything. A cliché maybe but it was his life and he could not care less about what people would think or say. He was about to succeed, he was about to take fate from its neck and snap it, feeling its very vertebrae crack under his thin yet determined fingers. He didn't notice but behind him, the rest of the musicians showed up and took their instruments in their hands. They nonetheless did not accompany the piano and kept silent, watching Lucien's show. He stomped the wooden floor of the stage with his foot, planting his legs about a foot apart from each other, as if to suck the very energy of the whole stage from his feet. He spread his arms like wings. His voice was the invisible firebreath of the dragon that he unleashed from the cage of his soul for the flames to raze his audience, leaving their ears and minds blank and washed up like a coast city after a violent tsunami. He wanted Monsieur Duchemin to feel empty inside, his soul too tired to be able to process or feel anything. He wanted to leave him struggling to find some air to breathe.

Lucien stopped singing as the piano use slowed and dies out. He was panting and he wiped his brow off the sweat. Silence fell in the room, only broken by the occasional sound of plates or glasses being moved in by the waiters who were readying the room. The young man was nervous. Because of the spotlight he could not see the rich man's face so he couldn't read his feelings. Silent seconds passed and each new one was harder to take in, he left like he was clinging on the edge of a cliff and slowly losing his grip. Eventually, the rich man spoke.

"Vous savez chanter en d'autres langues?"

[Do you know some songs in other languages as well?]

Lucien raised an eyebrow. Of course he knew other languages and that was not thanks to school but again, to his abilities to charm a woman, whatever her country of origin. He actually had a weakness for foreigners. He liked the charm of the unknown, it added up to the thrill of the seduction. And it made him travel. Through these ladies, he had mapped quite a fair bit of the globe. He also had to thank Bordeaux and Paris for being such touristic places. In the first, he had met with mainly Spanish ladies but also a couple if English ones. But then, when he got to Paris, the nationalities exploded and he had a go at every continent, so to speak. And thanks to all these acquaintances, he had gather a fair amount of knowledge in different languages.

"Oui."

"En anglais?"

[In English?]

"Oui. En espagnol aussi."

[Yes. In Spanish too.]

At the time, he only knew a few words of both languages, barely enough to communicate. But of course the language of love is universal, as they said.

"Chantez-moi quelque chose en espagnol alors et l'orchestre vous accompagnera."

[Sing something in Spanish then and the orchestra will accompany you.]

Lucien felt his knees weaken and his legs were slightly shaking in his trousers. He did not know why Duchemin wanted him to sing in Spanish. He thought it was weird in the context of such a fine establishment. He did not know that Duchemin had precisely asked him for that exact reason. His singing star had moved away and he needed to find a replacement but it was absolutely unthinkable for him to have someone who would sing the same songs. He needed something new and refreshing and maybe the divine providence had put that random man in front of him because that was what he needed.

Lucien came close to the microphone again and started singing. The orchestra took a couple seconds but slowly, all the instruments glided in and added more layers and more texture to the auditive experience. He had set his mind to sing that great Spanish classic "Quizás, quizás, quizás." He understood the lyrics and knew them from the top of his head. He also mastered the pronunciation so he could focus on the expression, the feelings he wanted to convey. That song was a slow tango so it needed intensity, a slight vibrato here and there and a powerful voice, one that comes from one's very guts.

The violins tickled Lucien's ears, his hips were following the deep sound of the double bass behind him on their own, almost seductively. He could feel the waves of air resonating in his ribcage and his heart synchronised with the rhythm of the music. He was high on music, he felt the air fill with the notes and his voice has adding the last ingredient to the mix. In a way, it was delivering the fatal blow to Duchemin's heart.

When the music stopped, he turned and thanked the musicians, who nodded and exchanged short words of praise towards him. It warmed his heart.

"Bien. Suivez-moi."

[Well, follow me.]

Duchemin's voice broke Lucien's moment of high like a porcelain plate shattering on a tiled floor. His dreams of a life as luxurious as the decor he was standing in vanished. He was now following the director of one of Paris' most expensive places back to the front door. His heart fell to the ground and he lowered his head. He felt both empty, powerless and beaten by a force much greater than him. Maybe it was written that way. Maybe he was never to succeed and get out of his miserable life. Maybe he was condemned to steal all his life and sing in vulgar bistrots…

Duchemin arrived in front of the door and turned left. Lucien stopped at the door and looked through the window. He could see the famous Avenue des Champs-Élysées. He thought it looked grey and dead. Cars and people were coming and going but he couldn't feel the life in them. Had they been robots, it would have been all the same to him.

"Eh bien? Vous me suivez?!"

[Hey there? Are you still following me?!]

Lucien got startled by Duchemin's voice. He raised his head to him and looked at him.

"Je vais vous montrer votre loge. Vous commencerez ce soir! Allez, je n'ai pas de temps à perdre!"

[I will show you your room backstage. You will start tonight. Come on, I don't have all day!]

Lucien's face brightened, he felt like his feet rose above the ground and tears went up to his eyes.

Spy felt that ecstatic joy again as he was dancing on his own in his smoking room. He had forgotten how pleasurable and gratifying a good day of work felt. The coordination on the battlefield was impeccable. Today he had felt part of a team and it did pay.

Sniper was too curious. With Perle still in his arms he exited the base and ran along the wall. He knew Spy's room had thin windows and he knew on which wall they were. He came in front of the windows. As the Frenchman's room was half underground, the windows were actually on ground level. Sniper crouched next to a corner and wiped some frost away from the window.

"Blimey…"

He opened wide eyes in astonishment, and removed his tinted glasses to see better. He blinked a couple of times to make sure he was really seeing what he thought was happening. The Frenchman was enjoying himself! He seemed so different from the cold bitter man he had always shown to the whole team. Sniper watched as his colleague had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and was dancing on his feet, moving his hips elegantly and supplely. He was singing, shaking his head left to right and clapping his hands in rhythm.

Sniper wished the Frenchman could turn to face the window. He had removed his mask but he was giving his back to Sniper! The marksman could see the back of his head, the dark hair and the thin neck. Thinking about it again, Sniper preferred it that way. Had the Frenchman been facing the window, he would surely have noticed his curious colleague stuck on the glass. Also, the Australian would have felt like a pervert trying to catch a glimpse of something he was not supposed to. It was only a face but it would have felt wrong, very much so. Spy wanted his identity to stay secret and Sniper respected that. There were things about him too that he wanted nobody to know of.

Slowly the song finished and Sniper saw Spy laugh to himself heartily. The Frenchman wiped his brow with the back of his hand and put his hands on his hips. He was grateful. He did not know what he did to deserve that moment of bliss but there he was. He looked at himself on the mirror and sighed. An old man dancing as if he was twenty or thirty again. He turned and Sniper went away and stuck his back to the wall nervously. He hoped the Frenchman hadn't seen him and tried his best to wipe away what little he saw of his colleague's face. Thanks to his excellent reflexes, he hadn't seen much. The only thing he saw was the skin tone of his colleague, only a bit fairer than him. For the rest, he had moved too quickly for his eyes to actually see anything.

The sound of the radio had died and Sniper decided to go and give Perle back to her owner. He went back to the door with a knife logo on it and knocked.

Spy froze. He quickly put on his mask and gloves and opened his door.

"Hey, uhm, sorry mate uh, it's Perle, she came to me again."

The Frenchman opened wide eyes.

"Oh, my apologies for that."

Sniper handed the cat to Spy who took her delicately in her arms. The Australian felt the velvet gloved fingers of the Frenchman as he was passing him the cat and could not hold back a slight blush.

"I am sorry she keeps visiting you unwantedly."

Sniper put a hand behind his neck and looked at the floor for a bit, just so his blush disappeared. He felt like a schoolboy who was trying to hide that he'd been a naughty kid.

"Oh, no worries, I like her, she's always welcome and uh… Also she brought me some of her treats."

"Really?"

"Y-yeah, I mean she brought them for Hootsy and me… But yeah, as I said, she doesn't bother me at all, it's just that I figured you'd worry if you couldn't find her."

Spy smiled and Sniper's pupils widened slightly.

"Merci, Sniper. Indeed I would have but now I know. If I can't find her, she's with you. You don't need to bring her back each time. I'm happy for her to roam around as freely as she wants as long as she does not trouble you."

"Oh, she doesn't, nah, not at all. She uhm… She just meows and asks for pets."

Spy looked down at Perle in his arms.

"Ah, maintenant tu mendies des câlins, hm? Comme si je ne te gâtais pas déjà assez!"

[Ah, and now you beg for pets, hm? As if I was not spoiling you already!]

Sniper smiled. He couldn't understand anything of what Spy was saying but it warmed his heart to see his colleague who was so cold usually soften when he was taking care of his feline friend.

"Anyway, thank you very much Sniper."

"No worries mate. G'night."

Sniper returned to his van and laid in his bed. He stared at the ceiling. He could see the stars and the shy lights. The Australian nonetheless did not pay attention to them. All he could see however was the Frenchman dancing with the starry night as a background.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading :)

_Comments are greatly appreciated ;) !_

See y'all around for 7!


	7. Chapter 7

He was in a city, a busy one. It was all grey, the sky, the buildings, the walls. And blimey, how many people live there, it's as busy as an anthill! Sniper looked around him.

"Meow?"

He looked at his feet. Perle was there. She looked up at him and then turned her back to him and trotted away. She was about to cross a road.

_She's gonna get run over by a car or some'in'!_

Mundy ran after her to try and catch her. He shoved the crowd left and right, doing his best to catch up with the white feline whose colour contrasted sharply with the grey background. She crossed the road safely but seeing that Sniper was chasing her, she started running too. The Australian accelerated and put a hand on his hat to keep it on. Perle was beautifully finding thin gaps between the crowd where she could leap but Sniper found himself always struggling to push people aside.

"PERLE! WAIT!"

He shouted but the lady cat did not care whatsoever and kept running forward. He soon lost her sight.

_Bugger_.

He looked around. He felt like he was a droplet of fresh water in the salty grey ocean of concrete and dull people. He felt insignificant, unimportant. He turned around and around, trying to understand where he was, what he was meant to do. All directions were the same. People everywhere. Busy individuals forming a swarming and buzzing crowd. But still, individuals, only caring about themselves. Nobody seemed to have noticed him.

Mundy was lost. He picked a random direction and starting walking on the pavement. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet. His brown boots contrasted sharply with... the white of the snow? And he felt it crunching under his feet. He raised his head suddenly and saw no one. He was in a snow desert. No people, no buildings, no walls, nothing but snow as far as the eye could see. He looked around, even behind him. Nothing.

"Meow?"

He looked at his feet again. Perle had reappeared. He crouched and stroked her back. She purred but soon went away. He stood back up again and his eyes followed her. She walked to the silhouette of a man. Sniper squinted. The man was giving his back to him. He crouched down and took Perle in his arms.

"Oh, Perle."

Mundy froze.

_The French accent._

The Australian saw the dark red suit and the dark hair. The man started turning on his heels to face him.

"AAAAH!"

Sniper woke up, panting and sweating, his eyes wide open. He took a couple seconds to ease his breath and calm his heart down. He sighed.

_My God… What a strange dream…_

The sun was hardly rising. Sniper looked at his watch.

4.30am…

He tried falling asleep again but he couldn't and after an hour or so, he decided to get out of bed. It was now the weekend and he had no plans apart from trying to not freeze to death. He started to make some coffee. While it was brewing, he took a quick shower. The image of the Frenchman slowly turning to face him was stuck in his mind. He exited the shower and got dressed. His hair was still wet but he couldn't wait for the warm hug of coffee. The first couple of sips warmed him up from the inside. The bitter taste itched his tongue, but that's how he liked his coffee. Black and bitter. Only when he was home with his mother did he enjoy coffee with milk. But it had to be prepared by her, she was the only one who knew how to make it right.

Sniper sat on his couch and looked around him. He needed to take care of the laundry and maybe arrange his clothes in his cupboard. But for now he daydreamed as he watched the sun rise slowly through his window, the smell of coffee waking his senses up one by one.

\-- _Spy's suite --_

"Mmmh… Perle… Laisse-moi dormir…"

[Mmmh… Perle… Let me sleep…]

"Meow…"

The cat had woken up and was brushing her face on Spy's. He grumbled and turned on his bed.

"Meow…"

He took the pillow next to him and put it on top of his head.

_Scritch… scritch… scritch…_

She was scratching the pillow as if to dig her master up. He sighed, removed the pillow and turned to face her. She meowed happily and purred. He was now lying on his back and rubbing his eyes.

"Mon Dieu… Quand tu as une idée en tête… "

[My God… When your mind is set, nothing will change it… ]

She climbed on his chest and laid there, her head in the Frenchman's neck.

"Merci ma chérie."

[Thank you sweetheart.]

He stroked her back slowly and smiled as he heard her pur. He was not one to like cuddling or physical contact, but with Perle, it was different. Actually now that he thought about it, it had only been different with Perle and that woman. He frowned slightly.

"Meow."

He lowered his eyes. Perle had removed her head from his neck and was staring at him.

_Arrête de penser à elle. Tu te fais du mal pour rien._

_[Stop thinking about her. You're hurting yourself for nothing.]_

She was saying with her eyes.

"Tu as raison."

[You are right.]

He smiled at her albeit sadly. He missed it though. The charm of a woman, the eyes that speak a thousand words in a slow flap of the eyelids. He closed his eyes and dreamt he could touch her soft skin, trace her curves from the tip of his fingers, delicately, lose his fingers in her hair, smell her perfume. He took a deep breath and exhaled, opening his eyes slowly. No smell of feminine perfume. No smell of any kind besides the lingering smell of his cigarettes.

_Bah, Perle a raison, je n'y peux plus rien._

_[Bah, Perle is right, I can't do anything about it anymore.]_

He sighed. It had been years since they had broke up. But he couldn't get her out of his head. His mind went through the different ladies he had been with since. It was like flicking through the pages of a lengthy phone book, but with faces. None of them managed to replace her. He had also tried replacing her with people he'd find on his missions, not all females.

He smiled thinking about it again. Him, the old arrogant and snobbish man, with another man. The first time it had been awkward yet thrilling. It was that night he discovered that there were actually no real reasons to be disgusted or against it at all. It was as enjoyable as with the ladies. Obviously it was very different but he realised that he could feel as much towards a man as he could with a woman. Of course, no one knew that about him. And when he shared that secret with someone, he would share much more… Thinking about it, courtship with men was more enjoyable. Because it was a taboo and considered a bad or immoral thing by society in general, he had to be extremely cautious when dealing with a man, especially when he wasn't sure that his target could reciprocate. And that was exciting, thrilling. The chase of the forbidden, of the secretive. He had found to his surprise that most men he would approach would reciprocate. Not at first, of course, but after a bit of work, most would yield. He was also surprised how many of them would then tell him it was their first time, or how they were wanting it but were never brave enough to actually try and make it happen.

Conventions and traditions are ridiculous. Yes, maybe. Or maybe they just need to change, to adapt to new behaviours, new ways of seeing things. In any case, he was convinced that it would require more time than his life span for people to change their minds about it. And in any case, he was not too bothered. He was a spy, a top secret service agent. Unspoken secrets were his trade.

But yes, how he regretted those nights with men. Some were agents like him. Some were agents unlike him, meaning that they were working for another country. But being spies, they both knew how to keep it a secret. He found that, exactly like with women, he had a weakness for foreigners. He also found that his nationality and the stereotypes associated with it helped greatly. How many people dreamt of having an adventure, even short, with a French man? He had found that the answer was: more than he could have imagined.

Spy turned his head to look at the clock.

5h30.

He thought he should get up. At such an early hour, he would find no one in the kitchen and could hope to get some breakfast in peace. He gently moved Perle off his bed and put on his gown. He went to the bathroom and washed his face to wake himself up completely. He then came to the smoking room and got dressed. He opted for a Burgundy turtleneck cashmere top a pair of dark grey trousers.

"Meow?"

"Je vais me chercher de quoi petit-déjeuner. Tu restes sage d'accord?"

[I'm going to get some breakfast. You behave alright?]

Perle brushed herself against her master's feet. He put on his mask and gloves and, grabbing his vest, he left his suite. He arrived in the kitchen and as expected, the whole base was silent. He prepared some coffee and while it was brewing he rolled the blinds up. Sliding a finger on the side of the curtain, he looked out. The sun had risen and it had snowed during the evening. The ground was white and no footprints had disturbed its smooth surface. It was still snowing quite heavily. He let got of the thin curtain and went back to preparing himself some breakfast. He sat on the table and started enjoying his coffee when his ears pricked up. Something was making some noise from outside and the noise was growing louder meaning that what was causing it was getting closer. As a reflex he put a hand on his vest, where the inner pocket was. He felt the blade was still there. Whatever was coming, he was ready to welcome it. He frowned and, from his seat, he stared at the door, holding his breath.

The door opened and Spy saw a tall figure enter. They closed the door and Sniper removed his hat. He unrolled the scarf around his face and removed his thick winter gloves. He raised his eyes and saw Spy.

"Oh, G'day mate."

"Bonjour."

Sniper threw his stuff on the coathanger next to the door but kept his coat. The Australian saw the coffee and rushed to it, poured some of it in a cup and sat opposite him. That's when the Frenchman noticed that his colleague was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Are you alright?"

"Mate, it's too cold for me to stay in me van. I'm freezing there."

The tall man was bending his back and had stuck his hands on the hot beverage to warm himself up.

"I'll have to spend the day here somewhere."

"Don't you have a room in the base like everyone?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. But it's empty, it has none of my things "

Sniper shrugged.

"At least it'll be less cold than in my van."

He took a sip of the coffee. Spy stared at him while drinking his own.

"Whot?"

"Pardon my staring, Sniper, I was just daydreaming."

"Oh, roight."

Spy put his eyes on the newspaper that was lying on the table. He did not want to read it.

"I like it when it's silent like that in the morning."

The Frenchman raised his head from his cup.

"I agree with you, Sniper."

"That's why I never have dinner with the rest of you. I can rarely bear the noise and everyone's chatter."

Spy smiled.

"Oui. Most of it is unnecessary anyway."

"How do you cope with it?"

"I ignore it."

"Ah, good for you. I can't stand it."

Spy's eyes went back to the newspaper. The headlines were about someone who got shot. It reminded Spy of the impressive triple shot by his colleague.

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"That shot on the three Pyros yesterday was very impressive."

Sniper raised his head from his cup and straightened his back a bit.

"Well I was happy with it too."

"I have never seen anyone shoot as precisely as you do."

Sniper smiled proudly.

"Well, uh, thanks mate but I mean uh… Looking at the reports from yesterday's session, you were clearly the best mercenary. Also, that shot I took at the Pyros was not as good as I wanted it to be."

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about? You took 3 people down with a single bullet. It was an admirable shot."

"Yeah, well, I'd be happier if it was 3 headshots."

"Ah, I understand but please, that was the best shot of the week, if not the month."

Sniper's cheek went pink.

"Thanks mate."

Spy nodded.

"Meow?"

The smile on the Frenchman's face disappeared.

"Perle! Je t'avais demandé de rester à la maison…!"

[Perle! I had asked you to stay home…!]

The cat jumped on the Australian's lap. He scratched her head gently.

"Don't tell her off, she's fine."

Perle purred and scratched Sniper's coat. Spy rolled up his eyes, smiling.

"I guess you are right. It's too cold for her to go outside, chances are she'll stay home today… Or on your lap."

Sniper smiled.

"She can, I have nothing to do but stay in me room, laying on the mattress and staring at the ceiling…"

"What about your owl?"

Sniper unzipped his coat and Hootsy's head popped out.

"Oh, there he is. Bonjour Monsieur."

The bird shook his head and his whole plumage, and jumped on the table. Perle followed him with her eyes. The owl walked towards Lucien, shyly.

"You can go'n see him, he doesn't bite. Actually he only backstabs so don't turn yer back Hootsy."

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"Don't listen to him, I only backstab the members of the BLU team. But you are one of us, _petit bonhomme_ , and so you are completely safe. Also who would harm such a fine creature as you are, hm?"

[Little mister]

"Hoo."

"Who indeed, my little one."

Lucien extended his gloved hand but then withdrew it quickly. Sniper raised an eyebrow like a question mark. He watched as the Frenchman looked up and pricked his ears up for a while. He then nodded and removed his glove on his right hand and extended it. Sniper blushed and diverted his gaze. Hootsy came close to Spy's naked hand but hesitated.

"N'aie pas peur, je ne te veux pas de mal mon ami."

[Don't be afraid, I don't mean to do you any harm my friend.]

The Frenchman noticed how his colleague had turned his head and it impressed him. It was not much but such a small gesture showed how much the Australian respected him.

"Sniper, I don't wear gloves to hide my hands, I use them to not leave fingerprints. You may look, it is fine."

"Ah, roight, uh, thanks."

The Australian looked and realised that the Frenchman had long and slim fingers. His nails were impeccable, short and clear. Sniper watched as Hootsy put his head against Spy's index and then scratched himself against it. The older man smiled.

"I think I passed the test!"

Spy said, triumphant.

"Yeah, well, my Hootsy isn't as picky as your _Payrlee_."

Spy smiled.

"First, it's Perle and second, that's very bold to say for the man who prefers the rusticity of a camper van over the comfort of a real house."

Sniper smiled.

"Ah, touchey mate! But I only said Perlee to pull your leg."

Spy rolled his eyes up.

"Whot?"

"It's touché, not touchey."

Sniper raised his eyes up and shrugged.

"Can't hear any bloody difference!"

They both exchanged a short laugh when Spy raised his index finger from his gloved hand. Sniper instantly shut up and opened wide eyes. The Frenchman put his glove back on.

"They are waking up and will be here any minute."

"Oh."

Sniper gulped down the rest of his coffee in one go and went to the sink to wash his cup. Spy stood up and headed to his room. He opened the door and kept it open for Perle to enter.

"Meow."

She sat down.

"Allez Perle, on rentre."

[Come on Perle, we come back home.]

"Meow."

She still sat there and licked her paw elegantly.

"Eh bien? Qu'est-ce qui se passe?"

[So? What's the problem?]

He heard the showers in the bathroom start and looked down at his feline friend. She stared at him with her charming eyes.

_Invite-le à venir._

_[Invite him to come with you.]_

"Non."

_Pourquoi? Tu aimerais passer ta journée à te blottir dans une chambre vide loin de chez toi, tout seul?_

_[Why? Would you like to spend your day curling up in an empty room far from home on your own?]_

"Perle, ça n'est pas mon problème."

[Perle, that is not my problem.]

She blinked and she raised her tail up, her fur bristling slightly.

"Pourquoi tu te mets en colère?"

[Why are you angry?]

_Tu le sais._

_[_ _You know it.]_

Spy rolled his eyes up and shut the door, leaving Perle out. He sat down on his armchair and clenched his fists, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin over the tops of them. He pondered for a minute.

"Et merde, Perle!"

[And to hell with it all, Perle!]

He jumped out of his armchair and opened his door. His cat was still there. She raised her eyes slowly.

_C'est bon, tu as compris?_

_[Is that it? You've understood why now?]_

Spy grunted and went through the corridor. He stopped at the door with the target symbol and knocked. He heard some noise and the door opened.

"Oh, hey Spy."

"Excusez-moi Sniper…"

[Excuse-me Sniper…]

He looked up at the taller man but he the words did not come out of his mouth. How does one do it again? How does one invite someone for a coffee or for a chat or for anything?

_Argh…_

Even in French, words did not come easily. He realised that he couldn't remember the last time he did that. Invite someone for a friendly drink.

"You're alroight?"

Sniper's voice broke his train of thoughts.

"Uh, oui, uhm, Sniper, would you maybe prefer the comfort of a fireplace and a good coffee?"

The Australian opened wide eyes.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

_Bugger, what did I get myself into?_

_Et merde, me voilà coincé maintenant, merci Perle…_

[ _Shit, I'm trapped now, thank you Perle…]_

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading and as always it's your comments which push me to write more! :D

See you for number 8! :)


	8. Chapter 8

Spy let Sniper with Hootsy on his shoulder in and, looking around to make sure that no one had seen them, he locked the door. The Australian removed his hat off his head and looked around Spy's smoking room . The decor was on the opposite end of what he would have chosen but it suited the posh Frenchman. There was an oil painting of himself on a horse, wearing Napoléon's clothes and another one of his knife stabbing fruit.

_Such a spook thing, this man is pure arrogance..._

The furniture was neatly organised. There was a sofa in front of the fireplace with two armchairs, one on each side. One was more worn out and had more white hair from the cat than the other. There were small tables between the sofa and the armchairs. Upon one of them was an empty glass of wine and some magazines. In the corner, a long mirror was standing and next to it, a closed door. Sniper guessed that Spy's bedroom was on the other side.

"Pray take a seat and make yourself at home. I can take your coat, it's quite warm here."

"Oh, uh, yeah, thanks."

Sniper removed his coat and the Frenchman hung it on the coat hanger with his vest. The Australian went and sat on the sofa, on the right. Hootsy stood on the back of the sofa, making it his perch.

"Meow."

Perle jumped on the sofa and laid next to him.

"I have some good coffee if you want, maybe some decaffeinated if you prefer?"

"Uh, regular coffee will be fine."

"Très bien, give me a moment."

[Very well]

Spy went to the wall under the windows and prepared some coffee. He let it brew and came to sit next to the Australian who was stroking Perle.

"I see you have a record-player…"

Sniper pointed at the box on the small table next to the mirror.

"Ah, that thing is just collecting dust. Unfortunately I have only brought very few of my vinyls. But give me an instant, I'll be back with some coffee."

Sniper nodded and Spy went to get the hot drinks. He put it on a tray with some sugar for himself, he had seen that Sniper didn't have any sugar or milk. He looked through his couple of cupboards and found some biscuits that he put in a small glass plate. It was some French ones and he knew they'd be perfect with coffee.

"There you go, Sniper, I assumed you would prefer a mug over a small cup. And please, help yourself to the biscuits."

The Frenchman sat on the same sofa, only on the left.

"Oh, wow, thanks. These are good… What're they called?"

"Langue de chat."

" _Lang dew shah?"_

Spy couldn't hold back a smile.

"Close enough."

"Say it again."

Sniper bent forward and stared at Spy's lips. He saw them slowly part and his tongue danced, unravelling his pearly white teeth.

"Langue de chat."

The Australian took a second and tried again.

" _Long duh shah?"_

Spy nodded.

"Much better!"

"Does that mean anything?"

"Literally, 'cat's tongue'."

"Oh…"

"Because of its shape."

"You Frenchies might be good with biscuits but you're terrible when it comes to animal's anatomy."

Spy laughed and the Australian grabbed his mug and took a sip.

"Blimey that's some very good coffee you got there!"

"Indeed, it's a unique blend of beans. It's half from Chile and half from Brazil. What do you smell or taste in it?"

Sniper got the cup closer to his nose and smelled it.

"It's almost like… Mmh… It's almost like there are fruits with it…"

The Australian took another sip and let the warm drink drown his tongue. He took a second and closed his eyes and gulped it down.

"Blimey, it's so fruity and soft… Did you put any sugar in it?"

"Non, I did not. And you guessed correctly, it's a fruity mix. That's why I like it, and it's not too caffeinated."

Spy took a sip of his own and raised an eyebrow.

"I did not expect you to be a _connaisseur_ in coffee."

"It's about the only food that I can taste that well."

"Oh, why?"

"I guess I'm just used to coffee."

"If you have the palate for coffee, you surely have it for the rest."

Sniper raised his head to look the Frenchman in the eye.

"Uh?"

"I am sure you can taste wine as finely as you do coffee."

"Nah, never been able to tell the difference between a shit wine and a supposedly good one."

Spy raised his index finger.

"Ah! Non, I beg to differ. You _can_ taste the difference, but you choose to not dwell on it."

"How can you know?!"

"Because of the way you handled the coffee! Look, I can teach you if you want."

Sniper opened wide surprised eyes.

"Uh, ok, well yeah, I-I guess you could. But I've never been a good student so… And I don't want to bother you. You must be busy… Doin' whatever a spook does… And I'm sure I can't afford the wine-tasting lessons until paycheck comes..."

Spy smiled.

"Well I have always been a good teacher and you don't bother me at all. It would actually distract me so I would do it for free. My reward will be that I successfully killed time in a less dull fashion than I usually do."

They both took another sip of their coffee.

"But you mentioned the record-player. Do you want it? I am not using it."

"Oh, well, I have some discs back in me van so I guess I could use it, yeah."

"What kind of music do you usually listen to?"

Sniper put a hand behind his neck.

"Well, can be very different depending on my mood. I have some classic jazz, some more popular American stuff and, well, some latin jazz as well."

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"Latin jazz you say?"

"Yeah, things like Bossa Nova, where I can play the sax."

"You play the saxophone?"

Sniper nodded shyly.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"No offense, but I did not imagine you could play the saxophone."

"Well, add that to the list of things you're surprised about when it comes to me!"

"Pardon?"

"Mate, you keep on gettin’ surprised!"

Sniper counted on his fingers.

"First it was the cat, then the coffee, then the sax! What will it be next?!"

" _You_ tell _me_!"

As soon as he said it, Spy froze and he felt his body tense up.

_Merde, mais pourquoi j'ai dit ça avec cette voix?_

_[Shit, but why did I say that with such a voice?]_

He quickly gulped down his last sip of coffee and thanked his mask to cover his ears. He felt they were turning hot.

"Meow?"

To the Frenchman, Perle seemed to smirk. He wanted to talk back to her but the fact that Sniper had his very hand on her prevented him from doing so. Instead he simply resorted to let his gaze do the talking and stared at her as if to say "Oh no you don't!". She flapped her fluffy tail and her smile grew wider.

"So, you sure you won't use it?"

Sniper's voice broke Spy's staring contest with the cat.

"Pardon?"

"The record-player."

"Non, non I won't. Not that I don't want to, but as I said, most of my discs are back in France. I will dust it off for you and you can have it."

"Actually, uhm, now that I think about it… I might stay in the base for a bit of time, for this blizzard to pass. I'll go and grab some stuff and I'll stay in me room I think."

"So you'd rather have it in your room in the base?"

Sniper nodded.

"If you don't mind, o'course?"

Spy shook his head.

"Not at all. By the way, do you want me to give you a hand to move your belongings from your camper van?"

"Oh, uh, yeah nah, it's fine, I'll manage on me own."

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"You sure? It could prevent you from crossing the cold too many times."

Sniper sighed.

"Yeah, you're roight I guess. But I don't want you to freeze either."

Spy smiled.

"I am better protected than you are and besides, I'm more used to the cold than you so no worries."

Sniper smiled.

"Thanks mate, but I didn't know France was like Siberia! And our winters in the desert are that harsh too. It's just me, I can't stand the cold."

Spy chuckled.

"Non, France is not but I do remember that your winters are much less harsh than ours."

"Wait, you been to Australia?"

The Frenchman nodded.

"On some missions, oui. Unfortunately it was not a leisure trip."

"Oh, whereabouts?"

And the conversation deviated on the subject of Sniper's country of origin. Spy described the landscapes he had seen, the desert inside the land, the green coasts, he even had to learn how to speak with an Australian accent to pass as a local sometimes. It amazed as well as amused Sniper.

"Oh, you've got to speak to me in an Aussie accent! I can't believe you can imitate it, you sound so French!"

Spy raised an eyebrow and his colleague realised he might have hurt him.

"No offense."

"None taken and I'm sorry, Sniper, it's been such a long time, I have forgotten most of it unfortunately… But if we continue chatting, you will contaminate me with your accent."

"Guess I gotta talk t'you more often then!"

As soon as that sentence finished exiting Sniper's mouth, the Australian blushed.

"Well, I mean like, uh, just for you to get the accent again eh, heh."

Spy smiled and nodded.

"But of course."

The marksman wanted to change subjects.

"I uh, I see you're well equipped here eh. You could live on your own."

Sniper pointed at the small kitchenette on the wall under the windows where Spy had prepared the coffee.

"Well, indeed I could and I enjoy it sometimes. But when the work day has been good, I have no need to lock myself up here with Perle, especially when I can play a game or two of poker!"

"And strip people off their money?"

"Well…"

Spy took a cigarette and lit it.

"Well, what?"

Spy raised a devious eyebrow smirking.

"Nothing…"

Perle tilted her head. The Frenchman looked at her.

_Tu sais que je ne "stripais" pas que de l'argent à l'époque quand je jouais!_

_[You know that I wasn't only stripping money out of people back in the days!]_

"Meow!"

The cat read her master's thought and he chuckled. Sniper raised his eyes to the clock and put the mug away.

"I should get going, mate, I've stayed here long enough."

Spy watched as Sniper got up and adjusted his jumper.

"Bien, let me get your coat."

"Hootsy, c'mere, we're going back home."

The owl flew to his master's shoulder, on top of his coat.

"W-what're you doing?"

"I'm coming to help you move your belongings. Perle, reste sage."

[Behave while I'm away.]

Spy dressed up and let Sniper lead the way. It only took a couple come and goes to get the Australian's belongings. When they put the bags in his room, Sniper turned to Spy.

"Thanks mate, really."

"Avec plaisir."

[My pleasure.]

The Frenchman said goodbye to him and came back to his suite. He locked the door and removed his heavy coat, scarf and gloves. He pulled on the balaclava and removed it quickly, his hair flowing free. He carded his front tufts and arranged them quickly, like a reflex. The Frenchman then took a rag and dusted his record-player off. He opened the drawer right under it and took his disks. He selected Sinatra and put it in. He dropped on his armchair and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a sip and without realising, he was staring at the sofa, smiling to himself.

"Meow?"

He raised his eyes and looked at Perle who was sitting in front of the mirror. He then saw his own smile, his half closed eyes and his posture. Spy realised he looked like he was sinking in his armchair. His eyes went back to Perle. She was smiling, she was happy. It had been such a long time since he saw her wear such a pretty smile. He sighed and appreciated the warmth of the nearby fireplace. He felt warm, his shoulders relaxed and slowly, he leant his head back on the armchair as Sinatra sang the first words of his song

" _Strangers in the Night, exchanging glances_

_Wondering in the night what were the chances_

_We'd be sharing love before the night was through!"_

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading:)

As always, let me know what you think in the comments, it helps me to keep on going :)

See y'all around for the next one! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Sniper unpacked his things in his "new" room. His clothes cupboard was half empty but he was used to that. He did not care too much about what he was wearing, as long as it was comfortable and warm. He looked around him. The floor was wooden and creaked under his footsteps. The walls had a beige wallpaper that was turning brown-ish at some places. Sniper scratched his head.

_Really doesn't look like home…_

His eyes moved to the small desk. He had put some framed pictures on it. One showed his parents, another was of him as a child with his father. He was holding a fish in his hands. It was his first time catching such a big one. Of course it wasn't that big but he had been so thrilled by it that his father had got the camera and took a picture of that moment, to remember it.

_Well, I guess I can't do much more than that._

He dropped on his bed and laid there, resting his head on his hands. He rested his eyes for a bit but his mind was buzzing and he couldn't sleep.

Spy's not the only one surprised. Why did I get so chatty with him? Why did I tell him that I played the sax? Also, I'm bloody surprised he actually gave a damn.

He opened his eyes.

_Wait, he was actually the one who invited me to his room in the first place. Why?_

His stomach gurgled and broke his train of thought. Sniper got off his bed and left for the kitchen. As soon as he entered, the warm smell of a vegetable soup filled his lungs and he saw Engie stirring a big pot.

"Oh hey Snipes!"

"Mh."

Scout greeted him but the Australian was still lost in his thoughts and did not give much of an answer. He went to the fridge and got some things out of it. All the mercenaries were slowly gathering around the table and taking their seats.

"Sniper, you should take a seat and have some soup with us, pardner. It's pretty cold and I'm sure it'd do you some good."

Sniper turned and looked down at his shorter colleague.

"S'ppose it won't hurt."

"Great, grab a chair, it'll be ready in a minute."

The Australian sat and locked his eyes on his hands. They were freezing. He put them in front of his mouth and blew on them to warm them up.

"You need gloves Sniper."

The marksman raised his eyes to his big Russian colleague.

"Y-yeah, I guess I do."

He sat next to him.

"Not gloves like those you have. You need gloves with fingertips."

Sniper nodded, still blowing on his hands to get them warmer. Spy entered.

"Good day to you."

"Hallo Herr Spy."

"Not wearing your suit, fancypants?"

He rolled his eyes up.

"Very perceptive of you, Scout."

The masked man sat opposite Sniper. The conversations started between the mercenaries while Pyro and Scout were readying the table.

"Right fellas, careful it's smokin' hot!"

Engie put the pot in the middle of the table. He served his colleagues one by one and finished with his own plate.

"Smells really nice, pal!"

"Thanks, Scout."

They all dived in while continuing their chat.

"You want some advice Sniper? For your gloves. Get thin one but in wool, they're best against cold. And if you're still cold, then bigger ones. But it might be not practical for pulling trigger."

Continued Heavy, with a rough accent.

"Thanks mate, I thought about getting wool ones anyway."

"Da, is good. But remember you want thin not knitted big."

Sniper nodded.

"Hm."

"Your soup is very good Engineer."

Spy said. The Texan raised his head.

"Oh, thanks pardner, I appreciate it."

"In my opinion, it is well balanced. I can still distinguish all the vegetables. None of them are hiding the taste of the others."

Scout rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well then, guess what's inside!"

Spy's lips pursed into a smile.

"You really wanna test'im on that mate?"

Spy's eyes shot to Sniper and then back to Scout.

"Let's see if he's as good as he thinks!"

"Mate, even I can tell you what's in that soup!"

"Go on then!"

"Wait, Sniper. Scout, are you ready to take a bet on this?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Then how much are you ready to wager?"

The young Bostonian man took a second to think.

"Against you, Spy… On Sniper's tasting of a soup… 30 dollars."

"Make it 40, be adventurous!"

The Frenchman was grinning devilishly.

"Alright, 40 bucks for me if he misses one ingredient!"

"Deal."

Sniper took as spoonful of it and smelled it at first, not noticing how intensely the Frenchman was staring.

"Just with the smell I can tell there's potatoes, leeks and onions. The colour tells me that there's either carrots or pumpkin too…"

He put it in his mouth and let it invade his tongue and palate slowly before swallowing it.

"Yeah pumpkin, no carrots and there's a hint of… Uhm… Some kind of herb…"

"You can't guess it?"

Scout's grin was growing bigger and bigger on his face. Sniper panicked, he knew that taste!

_Come on, come on, what's it called again…?_

He looked at Spy in front of him, with his eyes wide open in panic. The Frenchman smiled at him and pulled his sleeve on his left arm up slightly, revealing his watch. He lightly tapped it with his gloved finger. Sniper raised an eyebrow.

Why the bloody hell is he showing me his watch?! Is he in a hurry or some'in'?! He doesn't have time-OH!

"Thyme!"

Sniper shouted excitedly.

"Great job pardner, you got it all!"

"Oh man!"

Sniper smiled and looked at Spy, nodding almost imperceptibly. The Frenchman nodded slightly in return and hid his watch under his sleeve again while he pretended to adjust it.

"See, even Sniper can tell you. Now, eat your soup to grow up, young man!"

Spy said, mocking Scout.

"I'm a grown up already!"

"Oh, my apologies, I haven't noticed."

Scout dived back in his soup, wishing friendly fire was working. Spy smiled.

"I'll get your money after lunch, fancypants."

"No need."

"What?!"

"If Sniper agrees, I will take that look on your face as our sole reward. It is priceless."

Sniper nodded, smiling at his colleague and finished his soup. He stood up and went to the sink to wash his plate when he felt someone behind him. He turned his head and saw Spy with his empty plate.

"I can wash it for you, mate."

"Merci."

Spy winked at him and did a subtle movement of his head towards the direction of the corridor. Sniper understood he was inviting him to his room and nodded.

The Australian washed everyone's dishes and waited for everyone to resume their lives. He opened a cupboard to get some food for Hootsy.

_Bugger, I left his food in the van… Maybe I can ask Spy for some of his cat food..._

_\-- Spy's smoking room --_

There was a shy knock at the door but Spy heard it. Since he got back to his smoking room, he had been restless with impatience. He had sat down and tried to read his magazine to wait. His eyes ran over the pages but were not actually scanning the words. So when the faint knock got to his ears, he jumped out of his armchair, startling Perle, who was laying on the sofa, and went to the door, dusting himself off. He opened the door and Sniper quickly slipped in.

"Uhm, you wanted to see me?"

"Oui, I have something for you. Pray make yourself at home and take a seat on the sofa."

"By the way, can I ask for some of your cat food please?"

Spy turned and looked at his colleague in disgust.

"Bushman?!"

"Nah, not for me! It's for Hootsy. I've ran out of food for him."

Sniper replied, chuckling.

"Ah!"

Spy put a hand on his chest in relief.

"Oui, oui of course. I will give some to you. But please, I have something for you, take a seat."

Sniper obeyed and his eyes followed the Frenchman. He went to the record player and put a disc on.

"Oh, you cleaned it up?"

"Hm-mh."

The music started to play.

"Oh I know that one! That's the Girl from Ipanema and if I'm correct, I think it's the version by Sinatra and Jobim?"

"Exactly!"

Spy sat on the sofa and Perle sat between them.

"Oh that's a real great piece."

"I love Sinatra. His voice is an absolute delight."

"Yeah, that's true."

"That's about the only Bossa Nova piece I know."

"I can show you more of it if you like it."

"Avec plaisir."

[My pleasure.]

They both sat in silence to enjoy the sweet piece of music. It made them both relax. Sniper bent forward and got his hands closer to the fire. Spy got off the sofa and went to his bedroom for an instant. He emerged soon after and the music ended.

"Here, take this."

Sniper raised his head. His colleague was handing him a pair of gloves.

"Oh, but mate they're-"

"Made of Merinos wool and they're very warm. Try them on."

Sniper raised an eyebrow.

"Wait. Why are you like this?"

"What?"

"No offense but it's all a bit too nice to be true."

Spy sat on the couch.

"I mean… You're a spook. And I've seen you deceive and backstab people, you're not s'pposed to be nice. You're usually cold and arrogant and… Not like what you pretend to be now."

Spy looked at his colleague and lowered his head. Perle rose on her paws and stood between both men, facing the Australian.

"Sniper, I am not playing any tricks."

"Then why, hm? You have no reason to do all this! To invite me here, offer me coffee, offer to help me move my things, the record-player. Nah mate, you're planning on something and I'm sitting right in the middle of it for some reason."

Perle looked at her master. He didn't even the heart to look up at his colleague. Sniper got off the couch.

"Tell me. Tell me what you're planning and what role I'm s'pposed to play."

Perle looked at him and hissed, defending her master.

"You can't even admit it to my face. You lyin' spook. And you know I don't like to spend time with people. I rarely go out me van. Look, whatever you want to use me for, just spit it out already, I might just do it for you and then go back to my life."

Spy raised his eyes and frowned. He didn't know what to answer. He did not know what he was planning with his colleague. He did not know why he was doing all that. He stood up and as the Australian was walking to the door, he felt something inside him shatter. It hurt.

The Australian went to the door, took his coat under his arm and left, slamming the door behind him. He went straight to his room and locked himself up.

Meanwhile, in his smoking room, Spy resumed his seat on his armchair. He stared at the fire. He remembered the photo of that woman burning. He felt the same rage. The anger that one feels after repeating a mistake yet another time.

"Meow."

Perle jumped on her master's lap.

"Peut-être que je ne peux même pas avoir d'amis. Peut-être que c'est ça ma peine. Vivre dans la solitude."

[Maybe I just cannot make friends. Maybe that's my punishment. To live in solitude.]

Perle stood on her back legs and brushed her head on her master's mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"Ce n'est pas grave, au moins je t'ai toi."

[It's not an issue, at least I have you.]

He closed his eyes and heard her purr almost silently, like a whisper.

_Mais pourquoi lui?_

[ _But why him?]_

He broke the hug to look at his faithful companion.

"Je ne sais pas. J'en ai assez de cette solitude. Je veux pouvoir trouver quelqu'un à qui parler. Je veux ressentir ce que je ressentais avant elle, avant tout. J'en ai assez d'être la moitié de l'homme que j'étais."

[I don't know. I've had enough of this solitude. I want to find someone I can talk to. I want to feel what I felt before her, before everything. I've had enough of being half the man I was.]

_Ça ne répond pas à la question. Pourquoi lui?_

_[It does not answer the question. Why him?]_

Spy looked at Perle in her big blue eyes. He sighed and lowered his head. She brushed her head on him again and he resumed the hug.

\-- _Sniper's room --_

The Australian had slammed his door shut and locked it. He threw his coat on the desk and laid on the bed.

_Bloody bogan… Stupid bloody Spy… He can go to hell. I'll stay in me room or join the rest of the people in the living room._

He thought about the never-ending banter between Demo and Solly, the loud Scout. He grimaced and removed his glasses. He put a hand on his forehead and let it sink to rub his eyes and slid it on his cheeks and finished with his chin.

_I can feel the headache comin' just thinkin' about it. Ugh, I'll stay locked up here._

"Hoo?"

"Oh hey Hootsy."

The owl fully opened his big round eyes as he landed on his master's chest.

"Hoo!"

"Mate, I'm not up for games."

The owl tilted his head.

"Well yeah, I went to see him but I think he's planning something. I mean he can't be just nice, can he?"

His pet bird moved to Sniper's pocket on his trousers, on the left side and started pecking it.

"Oi, what do you think you're doin' there mate? I don't have anything for you."

Sniper pushed his friend aside and sitting up, he put a hand in his pocket.

"Actually I asked him if he could lend me some of Pearl's food for-uh…"

The marksman got something out of his pocket. He pulled it out and put it in his hand.

"Bloody hell, how did he-?"

A black wool glove was in the palm of Sniper's hand. Hootsy had pulled the second one from his master's pocket and was carrying it in his beak. The Australian sighed and Hootsy put the second glove in his palm, on top of the first one.

"Oh you want me to try them on too now?"

He said, half annoyed. He looked at the bird.

"Roight."

He slid his first hand in and it came as a flash. He remembered that touch. When did he feel that again?

C'mon think, where was it…?

He got startled by the memory as it came back to him like a tsunami.

When I handed him Perle back, in the van. That's when I touched his hand briefly and I felt it!

He put the other one on and flexed his fingers repeatedly.

_A bit tight but I like it, and definitely quite warm…_

"Hoo?"

"Yes, yeah your food. I need to go for the van to get it. Roight…"

Sniper got off his bed and looked at Hootsy.

"You be a good boy, I'll just be a minute."

The Australian grabbed his coat and opened the door. He tripped on something on the floor. He lowered his eyes. A plastic bag. He crouched down and took it, looking left and right to see who could have left it there. No one. He grabbed it and came back in his room, closing the door. Sniper opened the bag and inside was some cat food as well as treats. There was a piece of torn out paper. He took it and read the cursive dark blue ink.

"Dear Sniper,

You forgot this and what's in your left pocket. My apologies, I did not mean to cause you any trouble, I will leave you in peace.

Signed: Spy."

Hootsy had jumped in the plastic bag and was happily having dinner.

_Yeah well, leave me alone ya spook._

The Australian got rid of his coat and laid on his bed. He watched his feathery companion eat until he could not carry his eyelids anymore. Hootsy flew to him and curled up in his neck and took a nap with his master.

"Spy."

"What?"

"I need to tell you something."

They both sat on the sofa.

"I am all ears."

"The other day, I saw you."

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"That evening after the rounds that we won. I saw you… Well… I saw you dance in your flat and…"

The Frenchman gritted his teeth.

"D-don't worry, I didn't see your face or anythin', I swear. But yeah I-"

"You pervert, you watched me in the privacy of my flat?! Where from?!"

Sniper put a hand behind his neck.

"Ah, uh, the window, from outside."

"Bushman!"

He looked furious.

"I'm sorry, it's just that-"

"Do I go and spy on you in your van?! Non! I don't! I could and if I did you'd know nothing about it, you would not suspect a thing! I could watch you while you clean your rifles, I could watch you…"

Sniper covered his ears with his hands but the angry voice with the French accent went on.

"I could watch you clean your mess of a van! I could watch you eat!"

Spy's face turned darker and darker. Only his piercing eyes were shining like two blue flames in the dead of night.

"I could watch you sleep! I could see your dreams and nightmares!"

Spy raised his black arms up slowly, the stripes of his suit were shining in bright red.

"Maybe I already did haha!"

He laughed like the devil, with all his white sharp teeth, glimmering like the blades of the short knives he likes so much. Sniper gasped.

"What d'you mean?!"

Spy smirked, his eyebrows closing on his eyes.

"I know what secrets you keep, _Mundy_."

The Australian opened wide eyes. His breath stopped. He felt hot, his sweat dripping on his brow.

"No… No you can't…"

The Frenchman who now was taller and wider than Sniper, looked down on him.

"Oh yes, I can."

He reached in his inner pocket and got his revolver out, aiming it at Sniper's heart. The Australian felt the cold metallic barrel touch his naked skin. He looked down and realised he was indeed naked in front of his gigantic and dark colleague. The Frenchman laughed loudly and his laughter echoed in Sniper's head repeatedly, louder and louder.

BOOM!

He had pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced through the defenseless Mundy who got pushed back by it. He felt it, like a dagger through his body, shattering bones and ripping muscles apart. He got pushed back and landed on the floor, his back on the ground. He wanted to argue, to talk back but how could he? The Frenchman knew. He just… He knew. The shame was killing Mundy already and in that respect, it made the bullet less harmful. Spy took a step forward and looked at Sniper on the ground. He was still grinning and aimed the gun at his chest again.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading!

As always, comments are greatly appreciated :D

And thanks to Deathtothecrows for their editing work :D, go check out their work!

See y'all for 10!


	10. Chapter 10

Mundy closed his eyes as each second that passed made him closer to his end.

BOOM!

He opened his eyes and saw the Frenchman with his revolver pointing towards the dark sky of the night. Spy crouched and put his hand on Sniper's chest. The latter shivered as he felt the velvet glove on his naked skin. He watched the Frenchman's hand clench and then open. The bullet that Sniper had felt going through his skin was shining in the palm of Spy's gloved hand.

"Did you just-"

Sniper's eyes crossed as Spy put his gloved finger on his lips. He shrank back to his normal size and got his nice red suit back. His skin lightened but his teeth were still pearly white and his eyes, of a shade of blue that Sniper could not- No. Too soon.

"Ssshhh…"

The Frenchman got his head closer to the Australian who blushed intensely as he felt his colleague's tie brush his skin on his chest, moving up and up. Spy was smirking, he whispered.

"Sniper?"

"Y-yeah?"

Mundy was petrified. He didn't know what he hoped or wanted anymore and so he decided to not even ask himself those questions.

BOOM!

The Frenchman's smile faded and his body collapsed on Mundy's.

"Spy? SPY, NO!"

BOOM!

"AAAH!"

Sniper woke up. He was in sweat again. He looked around him, blinking repeatedly.

"Blimey… One of those nightmares again…"

Boom!

"What the hell…? The gunshot was real!"

Sniper jumped out of his bed and looked through his window. He saw a silhouette but it was so far away that it looked too small for him to know who it was. He rushed to his cupboard and grabbed a rifle.

_Now with the scope, I should be able to see…_

He looked through the scope and saw a thin man, quite tall, a revolver in his hand shooting in front of him. Sniper moved his line of sight to see what the man was shooting at. There was a small wall of snow and on it, several tin cans.

_What the hell…?_

The Australian put the rifle away and decided to investigate further. He put on his coat and wrapped the scarf around his face. He took his hat and exited his room.

As soon as he opened the building's front door, he saw the footprints of the man who was standing outside. Long and slim feet.

_Oh, bugger…_

Sniper knew who he would find but went anyway. He followed the footprints and it lasted a couple minutes before arriving behind the gunman.

"Leave me alone."

Without turning his back, Spy had heard him coming.

"Spy, what the bloody hell are you doing?! It's freezin' and you're standin' here like a bloody idiot shooting tin cans, why?!"

"This is none of your concern, Bushman. Now I did say I would not annoy you anymore and I will ask you to do the same."

Sniper closed the gap between him and his colleague. Spy still gave his back to him and pulled the trigger. He missed the tin can.

"It's your wrist."

"What?!"

"Your wrist, you wanker, you're putting too much stress on it."

Spy sighed, annoyed.

"I know it's to compensate for the recoil, but that's not how you should do it. Have you tried shooting with both your hands on the gun?"

"O-oui, but my aim is much worse. I was trained to use only one hand."

"Can I?"

Sniper extended his hand and laid it flat next to Spy's. The Frenchman noticed that his colleague was wearing the gloves he had given him. It softened his heart slightly and he put his Ambassador in his colleague's hand.

"Oh wow, I had never noticed the engraving on the barrel, beautiful…"

Sniper was looking at the gun, noticing the engraving of a woman on the barrel.

"Bushman?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry… Look here, you hold it like that… And that's why all the weight is on the wrist! But if you hold it like that… See how I shifted the weight from the wrist to here?"

Spy listened carefully and nodded.

"Now, try it."

Sniper put the gun back in the Frenchman's hand.

"Like this?"

"Not exactly, you want to have your thumb a bit more in that direction… Uh… I can't really find the right words…"

"Say it in French then?"

The Australian looked down at his colleague who slowly turned. Spy was smiling.

"Believe me, if I could, I would. But last time I spoke French, it was at school and I was horrible at it."

While talking, Sniper had actually put his gloved hands on Spy's and was adjusting the position of his fingers.

"There you go, that's how you should hold it. Now try with that can again."

Boom!

"Merde, I missed again. You're a terrible shooting teacher."

"I'm as good a shooting teacher as you're a French one. Move your palm slightly… Like that. Try again."

"Hey! I can teach you French, why do you say that?!"

Boom!

The tin can flew.

"You just said _merde_. Now I'm bad at French but I know what that means!"

Spy turned completely to face the taller man.

"Oh in that case, _je vous prie, Monsieur, d'accepter mes excuses les plus plates!"_

"Whot?! What's all that mean?!"

"It means 'excuse me', but in a polite fashion."

"You Frenchies are another species…!"

"Says the one who eats Marmite?!"

"It's Vegemite we eat ya _spooky wanker!_ Marmite's the British one."

"Whatever, it's absolutely appalling."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"Of course I did, _imbécile_. It seems we can't find any other thing to spread on toasts for breakfast in your country, you kiwi!"

"Oh God, the kiwi are people from New Zealand you idiot, I'm an Aussie!"

They looked at each other in a second of silence and burst out laughing.

"My apologies, Bushman. And thank you for the advice on shooting."

"Bah, it's alroight. I'm also sorry. It's just so weird for you to be…"

"Nice?"

"Yeah."

Spy turned his back to aim at another tin can.

"Believe it or not, behind the mask, there is a human being."

"Really?"

Sniper was obviously joking.

"Bushman?!"

The Australian laughed.

"Sorry mate, couldn't let the opportunity fly by."

"Fair enough. But yes…"

Boom! Another tin can flew.

"...I am a human being and… This sun is killing my sight! How comes we have snow all the way up to our knees but the sun is blinding me!"

"There…"

Sniper took off his hat and put it on Spy's head.

"... you whiny baguette."

"You Marmite toasted kiwi."

"Whot?!"

Boom! Another tin can flew.

"Spook, I told you-"

"I know, I know, Marmite is English and kiwi, from New Zealand. But as long as you insult me, why wouldn't I annoy you too?"

He turned and Sniper saw his smirk. The Frenchman was also wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, roight. Is that what we're doing now, hm? Gimme yer gun."

Spy obeyed.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Sniper shot the remaining cans.

"There, try and beat that."

"Oh, is that a challenge, Bushman?"

"Yeah, yeah it is, Spook."

"Help me collect the cans back and I'll show you."

They walked around to gather the tin cans that were scattered around the small snow wall. Their banter wasn't interrupted.

"There you go, _Baguette Knife._ "

"Merci, _Headshot Man._ Now, let me try this."

They both walked away from the snow wall.

"Oi, don't cheat, I was standing farther than that!"

"Bien, d'accord."

[Alright, alright.]

The Frenchman took a couple of extra steps back.

"There. Is the Bushman satisfied with the distance?"

"Yes, Mister Spook. Now go ahead and try."

Spy adjusted the hat on his head so that it was blocking the sun from his eyes.

"Uh uh uh! I didn't have my hat to shield me from the sun!"

Sniper took his hat back. Spy turned and tried to take it back, he jumped but the taller man raised his arm up and the Frenchman couldn't reach it.

"Nah! You can't have it!"

"D'accord…"

[Right…]

Spy turned and faced the row of tin cans. He stood proudly, his legs firmly in the snow. He reloaded his revolver and took a deep breath, raising his gun.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

All the tin cans flew.

"Aha! What do you say to that Bushman!?"

"Whot I say…?"

He bent to put his lips next to Spy's ears and whispered.

" _I'm a bloody good teacher_."

"Bushman?!"

"What?! It's true, you can't deny it!"

"Rrrr… _Roight_!"

"Did you just-?!"

Sniper opened wide eyes.

"Yes, that's one of my quirks, I can imitate people."

"Wow, I wasn't expectin' this."

" _Nah, I know you didn't, you wanka_."

"Oi!"

Spy's smile was very wide and he winked at his colleague.

"Don't get angry Bushman, please, I'm just playing with you."

"Yeah nah, it's fine."

"Let's get the cans and go back inside."

"Roight."

\-- Spy's smoking room --

Both men had had a change to get rid of the soaking trousers and socks. They were now sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace and were enjoying the soft warmth of the flames.

"I need to thank you, Spook."

"Hm?"

"For the food for Hootsy and the gloves."

Spy smiled.

"You're welcome. And I thank you for the shooting lessons."

" _Duh rian."_

The Frenchman turned his head to face Sniper.

"Isn't that how you say 'you're welcome'?"

"Oui, it is. We say 'De rien'. I'm just surprised."

"Ah, _de rien."_

"Très bien!"

[Very well!]

Silence fell for an instant.

"There was this woman."

Sniper opened wide eyes.

"She… She was important, very much so."

Perle jumped on the sofa and laid next to her master.

"We shared our lives for a moment that I wished could be our lifetime. But I made a mistake and paid dearly. She left me."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. I guess I deserved it."

The Frenchman paused for a second.

"When we got together, I thought ' _That's it, my life will make sense now.'_ I thought I would quit my position as a spy, go and settle with her, why not give her children. It turned out she played with me. I trusted her blindly. Oui, you may smile, you may laugh."

"Why would I?"

"You would be right to."

Spy extended his hands towards the fireplace.

"Ironic for a spy to trust anyone when _he_ is the one who shouldn't be trusted. But I was in love and young and thus, stupid. It turns out, I was only a distraction from her husband. I had seen some evidence of it but turned a blind eye to it. I was so deeply in love…"

The Frenchman put a hand on his chest and clenched it. It pained Sniper who started to indeed understand that he had misjudged him dramatically.

"I told my boss it would be my last mission and I had given him my resignation letter."

"Wow…"

"Time went by and she finally got to be honest with me. A day before my resignation, she left and I found nothing more than a handwritten note that said farewell."

"I-I'm sorry mate…"

"I got back to the Minister of Defense and tore my letter of resignation apart in front of him. I asked him to send me on foreign missions. So I travelled the world and drowned my pain in work, alcohol and cigarettes. I became France's best secret agent. The Minister wanted me to bodyguard him, he even asked _my advice_ on some matters."

"Bloody hell…"

Spy turned his head to face his colleague.

"To this day I am still one of his closest friends and I still have good connections with the Ministry of Defense in general. But during those years travelling around, I became more and more convinced of one thing. Not to get into too much details but I had love interests here and there, one night stands mostly. None of them I felt a quarter of what I had felt with her. The feeling of being able to completely lose yourself to someone. I had felt so free with her, as if I had jumped from a plane without a parachute and expecting her to be my safety net. But I got too close to the ground and I had fallen with my eyes closed, I didn't realise that non, there was no safety net. I hit the ground at full speed and every bone in my body shattered to smithereens. My very soul smashed like a crystal glass. So I made a decision. From that moment on, I shall not ever feel anything for anyone. I shall just…"

"Protect yourself? Cut your feelin's short? Refuse to feel that spark anymore?"

Spy's jaw dropped.

"O-oui…"

Sniper put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know the feelin' mate. I've never had such a strong story with anyone. Sheilas would get with me because they think I'm just a poet. Someone who lives in a van, going from place to place, spending my nights using the starry sky as my blanket. Well, that's true. But the truth is I just like it and don't think much of it, and I have a good connection with animals. They understand me much better than people."

"I agree."

Sniper raised his eyes and looked into the flames dancing on the surface of the Frenchman's eyes.

"Perle is the only friend I have had after that woman. She's the one who mended me, the one who-"

"-stayed up at night with ya while you can't sleep or while you cry, or maybe you prefer to kill and shred everything around you?"

"Actually both. I can get angry very quickly. And if I cry, it is out of rage."

Sniper got closer to Spy on the sofa and kept his hand on the Frenchman's shoulder.

"Look mate, when did all that happen?"

"A long time ago. Too long. But my mind is stuck there and sometimes I find myself sad again, like the day I found that note."

"Hm."

Silence fell where only Perle's purring could be heard. She brushed herself on her master to try and comfort him.

"Look Sniper, I just thought we could try and be friends. Pardon me if I was too… awkward, trying to be friendly with you. I did not mean to cause any harm or trouble to you. I understand you are a solitary man and you might prefer the company of Hootsy and your own self. My apologies for the inconvenience, really."

"Spook?"

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

Spy raised his eyes.

"You're an idiot."

Spy lowered his head.

"You're a bloody idiot. And yeah it was very awkward. I genuinely thought you were up to some'in'. But!"

The Frenchman raised his head again.

"I am not as solitary as you think. I have some friends back in Australia not many, but some good ones. I like to spend time with them. But Spook, that's not how you get friends, especially since you're the bloody Spy here, which means no one feels like they can trust you."

"I-I guess I just have forgotten how to make friends. And the solitude is killing me. Actually, I have been dead since that woman left. I've never really had a laugh or joked with anyone. She killed me, that woman. What the early days and years of my life didn't manage to do, what the war didn't manage to do, what my spy training and missions didn't do, she single-handedly did."

"Forget about it mate. You've lost enough time not bein' happy. And that's stupid. Find some'in' you like and do it."

Sniper curled his arm behind Spy's back and the Frenchman moved to sit closer to the Australian.

"We need ya to be a good Spook against the BLU. So if all you need is a bit of company, I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yeah but you gotta be honest and not play spook games with me ok?"

Spy was on another planet with happiness.

"I will try my best Bushman."

"Also, if you're honest with me, I guess I have to be honest with you too."

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

"The other day, after work when I came to bring Perle back to you, you remember?"

"Oui."

"Well I came at your door and was about to knock when… I mean… I… Please tell me you're not going to be angry at me."

Spy frowned.

"Oui, go ahead."

"I heard some music playing in your flat and… I heard you sing."

Spy's eyes opened wide and he straightened his back, freeing himself from Sniper's arm.

"D-don't worry, I-I didn't tell anyone and nobody knows about it, I swear! Originally I came here just to give you Perle! But…"

Sniper put his hand behind his neck and looked down. He couldn't face the gaze of his friend.

"I got curious… So I went outside and 'round the buildin'. I stood there, in the snow and I saw you… dance."

"Sniper-"

"No, please, wait, let me tell you what-"

"Shut up! You ask me to be honest with you _when you spy on me?!?"_

Spy's voice hit Sniper in the face like a slap.

_Bugger, it's like in my nightmare…_

"No, I didn't mean to, I-"

"Mon Dieu…"

Spy put his hand on his eyes to rub them. He was frowning.

"So I guess you saw me without my mask then."

He asked very coldly.

"No, I didn't. You were givin' your back to the window and when you turned, I went away and didn't look."

Spy removed the hand from his eyes.

"You did what?"

"I then went to give you Perle back."

"Non, before that, you did what?!"

Spy's voice grew louder.

"I was there at your window!"

Sniper answered, shouting at him too.

"Non, _imbécile_! You looked away when I faced the window?!"

"Yeah you idiot!"

"WHY?"

Spy got closer to Sniper's face, yelling and gritting his teeth. The Australian was equally furious and roared back.

"SAME REASON WHY I'M TELLIN' YOU ALL THAT!"

"WHY?!"

"I BLOODY RESPECT YOU, YOU WANKAH!!"

Spy opened wide eyed and breathed heavily. He felt his heart race in his ribcage. His face was an inch away from Sniper's. The Australian's eyebrows had frowned but he relaxed and breathed quick and short bits of air. His heart was racing too. They moved back from each other.

"You're about the only one here I can stand. Remember when we listened to Sinatra?"

Spy nodded.

"You did somethin' that I really appreciated."

"I did nothing, I didn't even speak, Bushman."

"Exactly. You just enjoyed the music, in silence. And it felt normal. It didn't feel awkward at all."

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. If I'd been listening with anyone else, they'd either talk on top of the music or they'd be sittin' there awkwardly silent."

Spy turned and looked at the fire. He realised that Sniper was right, very much so. And when was the last time he enjoyed some music with a friend like that? He couldn't even remember. The Frenchman turned to face his colleague and looked him in the eye.

"Merci, vraiment, merci beaucoup. And I'm delighted to know you."

[Thank you, really, thank you very much.]

Sniper turned and saw his colleague looking him straight in the eye with his naked hand extended towards him. Sniper took the hand and shook it, giving his colleague a big smile.

"Nice to meet you too…"

Spy smiled too and his cheeks went pink.

"...ya spook!"

"Hey!"

Spy removed his hand and gently shoved Sniper with his elbow.

"Haha!"

"No but seriously, thanks."

"What for?"

"For everything."

Spy didn't say the whole sentence but thought about it. He had meant to say:

' _For everything, and before I ruin it.'_

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading :)

As always, comments are my fuel :)

And many thanks to Deathtothecrows for editing my chapters to make the English better! :D


	11. Chapter 11

The weeks passed smoothly and the cooperation between the mercenaries was growing stronger. The only thing is that it had developed in the BLU team too. But it was a nice challenge for both teams and all the mercs appreciated it.

After work, Spy and Sniper spent more time together. The Frenchman was exchanging wine-tasting lessons against lessons in the classics of the Bossa Nova genre. Sniper even accepted to play the saxophone for his friend, to accompany the disks. However, the Frenchman refused to sing for him. The Australian never really understood why but he sort of just rolled with it.

It was now Friday, a couple weeks after their handshake. Sniper had made quite some progress in French as well as wine tasting and Spy was proud of him. On the other hand, the Frenchman knew a good basic library of Bossa Nova songs.

\-- _Spy's suite, Friday after battle session --_

Spy was standing in front of the sink in his bathroom. He looked at himself intensely. He noticed his hair had grown longer and was curling at the end.

_Ah, tant que ça tient sous le masque…_ _[Bah, as long as it fits under the mask…]_

The Frenchman ran his fingers on his cheeks.

_Ça pique, je dois me raser._

[ _It stings slightly, I need to shave.]_

And so he got busy. He put some shaving foam on his cheeks and took his razor blade. He didn't like those fancy multi-blade razors that they sold nowadays. He much preferred the old style single blade. He let it glide smoothly on his cheeks and looked at his reflection but his mind was somewhere else. He was on auto-pilot while his mind was busy with other matters.

_Sniper_.

"Meow?"

He looked behind him on the mirror and saw Perle walking towards him. She jumped on the counter next to the sink. She was staring at him shaving.

_Il a beaucoup progressé en dégustation de vin._

[ _He has made a lot of progress in the wine-tasting field.]_

He saw the past couple of weeks he had spent with him flash before his eyes.

"Tell me what you taste in this one."

Sniper was sitting on the sofa and Spy on the sofa's arm rest next to him. The Australian smelled the wine first.

"That's an excellent start."

"But I didn't say anythin'?!"

"Non, but you started by smelling it. Ideally you want to take a good look first. A good wine is like a good book. It touches all your senses. The colour of the wine, how it absorbs and reflects light, it is all crucial."

"Oh…"

"Also, you don't hold your glass correctly."

Spy bent slightly and putting his thin gloved fingers on the Australian's, he moved them like a puppeteer with his puppet.

"Voilà, much better. Now look and tell me what you see."

"It's red."

"Yes and?"

"Well that's all I see, mate."

"Compare it with this one."

Sniper took both glasses and looked at them.

"This one looks a bit darker."

"Shake the glass slightly, in circles and observe how it wets the surface of the glass. Do you notice any difference?"

Sniper crossed his eyes and Spy even saw him stick his tongue out. It softened the Frenchman's heart. He had noticed on several occasions that his friend, without realising it, acted like a child in a fully grown man's body. It revealed his simple nature and Spy could hardly admit it, but he appreciated that dearly. Sniper was very kind-hearted and naive in his own way.

"Hm… This one sticks more to the glass."

"Indeed, it is a bit more viscous, good, good. Now, second step is the smell."

Sniper got the glass closer to his nose and smelled both.

"This one smells more like soil and this one.. like, well, it will sound stupid but…"

"Non, go on, say what you want."

"I was gonna say it smells more like grapes…"

"That is far from stupid, mon ami, it is an excellent remark. Anything else?"

"Hm… Nah, not really."

"Fine, now-"

"Should I listen to it?"

"What?!"

"You said _all the senses."_

The Australian was obviously pulling his friend's leg.

"Sniper…"

"Or maybe I should touch'em? Maybe that'll tell me somethin'?"

Spy sighed and shook his head.

"Or maybe talk to them? See what they answer?"

"Sniper…"

"Alroight, alroight, sorry mate…"

Spy smiled.

"It is fine."

"Told you I was a bad student."

"Yes and I asked you to be honest with me, Bushman."

"What do you mean?"

"You lied to me."

Sniper's smile faded on his lips.

"Whot?!"

"You told me you were a bad student and that is clearly wrong."

Spy answered in a very soft voice which made Sniper open big round pupils.

"No it's not, I've always been bad at school, or not as good as other kids."

"Another lie. You are exceptionally gifted, mon ami. What you just said to me, people take years of training to get it. And you? You just said it straight away. You're not a bad student, you just don't need teaching at all, or rather, you just need to be taught a bit of method."

Sniper looked intensely at his colleague and blushed.

"Oh, uh, I… I mean you, uh, ah, well I'm uh…"

Spy smiled. Each time he made a compliment to his friend, however small it might be, the man completely lost his ability to build a sentence that made sense.

"I'm sorry, I kinda lost me words."

"It's fine. Say it in French then!"

"Well, uh… Merci, I guess."

Spy nodded.

"De rien. But you still haven't tasted anything, so go ahead."

"Which one should I start with?"

"The one you're holding in your right hand. Do you know why?"

The Australian shook his head. Spy took the other one in his hand.

"Because of its lighter colour, you can infer that its taste will be less strong and you always want to go from light to strong. Also remember that you don't want to swallow it, you want to keep it in your mouth and then spit it out there, in that bowl."

"Wait whot? Why wouldn't I just drink it?! Isn't it what it's made for? Or is it too expensive for that?"

Spy rolled his eyes up, smiling nonetheless.

"Bushman, you end up drunk if you just swallow all of it."

"But it's just a mouthful-"

"Of wine, this is not beer. It contains more alcohol and we don't want a drunk or hungover Headshot Man tomorrow on the battlefield."

"Fair enough. So I take it in my mouth, keep it there for a while and then spit it out there?"

"Oui, also, while you have it in your mouth, make sure to let it invade everywhere in your mouth. Let the wine hug your tongue, wrap it in its embrace and let all the flavours come to you."

While he said that, Spy got carried away and wrapped his arms around himself…

"There are two schools then. Those who start with tasting the combinations of all the flavours at once, and those who start step by step."

"How do _you_ do it?"

"I belong to the second school. But it requires a bit of focus. Close your eyes."

The Australian obeyed.

"Don't steal me money eh?"

"Bushman…"

"Sorry… _Baguette Knife."_

Spy sighed and facepalmed.

"Do you feel your tongue in your mouth?"

"Where else would it be?"

_Bugger!_

Sniper had said that without thinking about it much but then a voice in his head screamed and he got hot all of a sudden. On Spy's side of things, the Frenchman blushed and his ears went hot. He wished he could remove his mask as the heat was getting to him. He mastered his voice so that it didn't show any emotion.

"Now, focus on the tip of your tongue… Do you feel it? That's what tells you if a wine is closer to the lower or the upper bound for its concentration in alcohol, also it tells you about the acidity of it… Relax the tip of your tongue now, switch it off, and focus on the sides of it, the edges on the right and left. Those will tell you about the fruitiness."

Spy was staring at his friend while talking. He looked so defenseless with his eyes closed… The Frenchman couldn't help but tilt his head slightly and still stare at Sniper.

"Now the surface on the top, that tells you about the soil in which the grapes grow, it's quite tricky and very complicated. Often people only get part of the information. Soils are very diverse and very intricate, making them thus very hard to tell apart. And finally under your tongue is where you naturally absorb the fastest and it doesn't tell you anything about the taste. So try and not get the wine to stay there too long as you will absorb the nutrients in it but also the alcohol and if your aim is to get drunk, then you're welcome to spend your evenings with Demoman."

"Nah, that's ok thanks, I much prefer it here with you, mate."

Spy smiled and blushed slightly again.

"Likewise, Bushman. But remember, do not have any prejudice on whatever you're tasting. It's exactly like when you meet someone. You don't want to misjudge them, you want to give them a chance to show who they are, all the aspects of them."

Sniper blushed in shame. That's exactly what he had done with Spy. Have prejudice. But since then and through the past couple days, he had learnt to know the Frenchman better. Also, it had helped him massively to overcome his uneasiness with the rest of the mercenaries. Now, he was able to have most lunches and dinners with the rest of his colleagues without feeling overwhelmed by them. He also bore the noise much better and actually exchanged much and much better with the others. That friendship with Spy had brought him that, at least.

"Before you go ahead, when you spit out the wine, don't wash your mouth straight away. You want to leave it there and use your nose again. Both your nose and mouth are connected and help each other when it comes to tasting so make sure to use all your mouth and all your nose to get all the information. Now, you may proceed."

Sniper obeyed and blinked a couple of times. Part of him wanted to remain with his eyes closed and listen to his friend talk. Spy could talk about anything and he managed to make it interesting to the Australian!

"Roight, now, let's go for wine number one."

Sniper took a sip of it and closed his eyes. He played the sound of Spy's voice again in his head and followed his instructions. He let the dark liquid flow and settle everywhere around his tongue and palate. He frowned sightly then his face relaxed completely. He opened his eyes and spat it out. He wiped his mouth with the tea towel that his friend handed him.

"I can't really decide what words are best to describe that one. Can I have the other one and then compare?"

"But of course! First, you wash your mouth with that glass of water… There, perfect, now, here you go."

Spy watch his friend go through the same routine again.

"That one seems less strong somehow… Oh wait I know, it has less alcohol. But the first one is more fruity, definitely. Also, the second one tasted more like earth, like leaves and things like that."

"I am astounded."

"What? Did I get it all wrong?"

"Non! On the contrary! Everything you just said was insanely correct!"

"Meow?"

Perle's meow broke Spy's day dreaming. He zoned back to the present day and his shaving. He washed his face and took his shower. A couple minutes after, he dressed up and put his mask back on, waiting for his friend to knock on the door as he usually did now. Meanwhile he put a disk on his record-player and sat on his armchair. He had an awful lot of catching up to do with his magazine but he much preferred it that way. Having a friend was infinitely better than killing his evening reading whatever petty journalists had to come up with…

_Knock, knock, knock._

Spy threw the magazine back on the small table and jumped out of his seat. He quickly went to the door and opened.

"Bonsoir Sniper… Oh, hello Hootsy."

"Bonsoir, Spy."

The taller man came in and hung his hat up on the coat hanger.

"You almost made me wait, Bushman."

"Ah, sorry mate, I had my folks on the phone."

They both sat on the couch, next to each other.

"Your parents you mean?"

"Yeah. They asked me if I was gonna be back for Christmas and I had to tell them I had to stay here."

"Oh…"

"I mean we have a week off but it's not worth flying back home and be horribly jet-lagged for just a week."

"Fair enough."

"You got any family, Baguette Knife?"

"Non, I'm afraid. I'm alone as far as I know."

"Oh, so you spend your Christmas with friends usually?"

Spy diverted his gaze from his friend.

"Not really, I usually don't celebrate Christmas."

"That's sad mate."

"Well, life has never been pleasant and seldom offered me anything. I've never understood the concept of pretending everything is nice and glamourous for a month and then go back to one's dull life."

"Have you never had presents when you were a kid? Have you ever decorated a Christmas tree?"

Spy shook his head.

"Sniper, one of the reasons why I am good at my job is that I don't have family ties."

The Australian opened wide eyes of surprise.

"I-I'm sorry, mate."

Silence fell in the smoking room and was only interrupted by the crackling of the flames in the fireplace.

"I'm takin' you tomorrow."

"What?"

"Tomorrow, you come with me. I'll drive you to a supermarket or somethin' and we'll get you some Christmas things, a tree, decorations, lights and a jumper."

"Sniper…"

"I was gonna go anyway 'cause I need to get some stuff myself."

"Bushman…"

Sniper looked at his friend and took him by his shoulders.

"Spook, this year you'll celebrate Christmas properly."

The Frenchman sighed.

"Last time I did celebrate it,-"

"Forget her for the love of God!"

Spy opened wide eyes.

"I know it hurts but you can't spend your time thinkin' about her or comparin' your present life to what it was with her!"

"Actually, since I've been spending my evening teaching you things and learning about others, I've thought about her much less."

"Oh…"

Sniper released his grip on his friend's shoulders. He smiled.

"I'm glad then. I-I just… Mate, you need to be happy and that's what Christmas is about. Now, if you really are against it, I won't force you. But it's such a shame, I promise I'll make you have a good time. And you know me, I'm not big on parties and things like that. But c'mon, please Spook…"

Spy looked at his friend. Sniper had that irresistible charm of a kitten with big round eyes and dilated pupils. The Frenchman could not but accept. He did not want to make his friend sad.

"D'accord, I will follow you…"

"Really?"

"Oui, but please, don't tell anyone and don't drag anyone else with us."

"O'course and I wasn't goin' to. I hate to go shopping. I go when I absolutely have to but I can't stand it. Too many people and they're everywhere around swarmin' like ants. When I go there, I make my trip as fast as possible so don't worry."

"That's not my issue. I fear I will feel bad when I'm faced with those things again."

Sniper gave him a sweet smile and turned to face the fireplace. He curled his arm behind Spy who moved a bit closer to his friend.

"Don't worry, I'll be with you."

Sniper cupped his friend's shoulder and pulled him close. The Frenchman was tempted to let his head rest on the marksman's shoulder. He was not just tempted, he _craved_ it. He nonetheless resisted it.

"Spy, you asked me to be honest with you so I'll say it."

Spy held his breath.

"I really appreciate that side of ya. You never show that you're actually much less confident and arrogant than you seem. But gettin' to know you, I learnt that you're a normal bloke. You got your story, which is not a light one as far as I can tell, you got your things you're not confident about."

Sniper paused.

_Should I say it?_

He felt his heart beat faster.

_Screw it, I'm gonna say it, he must hear my stressed out heartbeat anyway now…_

"I… I mean uh, well, you, hm… "

"Breathe, Sniper."

The Australian took a deep breath.

"I like that you trust me that much. I feel like you don't do that often."

"It's true. I rarely trust people. And you know what happened last time I did."

"Won't happen again. I said I'd be honest with you."

Spy couldn't resist it anymore and let his head rest on his friend's shoulder. He waited a second to see how the marksman would react. The Frenchman's eyes were locked on the flames and he gritted his teeth as he felt hot from his toes to his very hair. His whole body tensed up. He waited for the moment when Sniper would push him back, withdraw his arm, be offended, shout at him. Each fraction of a second was heavier as he felt the marksman would reject him imminently.

Sniper's reaction: he rested his head on Spy's and brushed his shoulder with his hand.

_Mon Dieu, combien j'en avais besoin!_

[ _My God, how much have I been craving this?!]_

Spy's entire body relaxed and he closed his eyes, rolling them up and smiling in happiness. His eyebrow rose and he felt things he thought he wouldn't feel anymore. His head was under Sniper's chin, in his neck, and he could smell his cheap cologne. He liked that smell, oh how he liked it. His stomach was buzzing with the million butterflies that took off in unison, flapping their colourful wings under the clear blue sky.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading!

As always, let me know what you think of this one please, it really helps me go forward!

Special thanks to Deathtothecrows for editing the grammar !

See you all around for 12!


	12. Chapter 12

Spy woke up the next day. It was Saturday. He turned to look at the time.

6:30am.

He was surprised as he realised he had managed to sleep the whole night without waking up once.

"Prrrr… Prrr…"

Perle woke up and brushed herself against her master.

"Mmmmh, bonjour ma chérie. Tu as bien dormi?"

[Mmmmh, good morning sweetheart. Have you slept well?]

"Meooow."

It seemed to him that she was smiling.

"Et bien, quelqu'un est de bonne humeur!"

[Well now, someone is in a good mood!]

She blinked and tilted her head.

_Pas autant que toi._

_[Not half as much as you are.]_

He stared at her and smiled.

"Tu as peut-être raison."

[You might be right.]

He got off his bed and got busy with his morning routine. After a few minutes, the Frenchman was showered and dressed. He was in his smoking room, enjoying his morning coffee while listening to the news on the radio. Spy was not paying attention to it, he was thinking.

He had not dreamt. He really had rested his head on his colleague's shoulder and didn't get rejected . He had loved everything about that moment. The physical contact, the warmth, the sweetness. But he wondered. Did his friend just endure in silence because he was too shy or awkward to reject him? Or did he enjoy it as much as he did? He remembered that the Australian had put his head on his and he had felt his fingers brush his shoulder slowly. Surely he did not imagine it?! Surely he wouldn't do that if he hated Spy, would he?

The Frenchman finished having his breakfast and took a magazine. Again, his eyes were on the page but his mind was away. Today his friend would take him to buy Christmas things. What had he said again? A tree, decorations, lights and a jumper? He felt anxious. He hated to go to supermarkets for the exact reasons that Sniper mentioned. Too many people, too much noise.

_Bleh_.

He pulled his nose up and stuck his tongue out in disgust. But he thought of Sniper and sighed. Without realising it, his lips were pursing in a smile.

"Meow?"

He raised his head towards Perle who was sitting next to the mirror and realised he was smiling, his eyes half open.

"Mon Dieu…"

He removed the smile from his face and looked scared. He knew what that face of his meant. He knew what those butterflies he had felt in his stomach meant and the realisation slapped him across the face. The Frenchman opened big round eyes in horror and looked at his hands that he laid flat in front of him. They were shaking. The whole of him was.

Non, non, non, NON!

He did not want to risk it. It was his first and only friend here and did not want to risk anything. His contract with Mann Co. would last at least a couple of years. So the thought of having to pretend everything was fine when it clearly was not for such a long time was unbearable.

He could see it all. Him falling deeper and deeper, telling his friend about it and ruining everything. And then what?

_Retour à la case départ._

Back to square one. Back to the lonely evenings, back to the rage boiling inside, back to the solitude and emptiness…

Unless! Unless he did not show anything. He could pretend to just be a friend and want nothing more. Oui. That's what he should do. As much as he had craved and adored that moment of tenderness, his mind could not bear the possibility of losing his friend.

He made his mind then. He would keep that moment of softness in his memory and come back to that thought each time his heart would ache. Oui, that's what he would do.

_Knock, knock, knock._

He got startled. Spy looked at himself in the mirror. He carded his hair, adjusted his turtleneck top and put his jacket on. He quickly slipped his mask on and his gloves as he went to the door and opened.

"Mornin' mate, uh- I'll come back later."

Spy had not had time to adjust his mask properly was holding a glove between his teeth.

"Nnh, sorry Sniper, non, please, do come in."

Sniper diverted his gaze from Spy's face and locked his eyes on his shoes. He entered the flat and Spy shut the door after him.

"Forgive me, mon ami, I did not expect you so early."

Spy adjusted his mask and turned to face his colleague. They both sat on the sofa. The Australian raised his eyes.

"Uhm… Mate… You, uh, I, erm…"

"What?"

Sniper came close to the Frenchman and put his index finger close to his forehead, between his eyes.

"You got a lock of hair out there."

The pointy end of a shiny grey curl had slipped out of the mask.

"Oh."

Spy crossed his eyes and adjusted it quickly. Sniper blushed looking at his friend's light blue, almost grey eyes looking up.

"My apologies and merci…"

"It-it's fine."

"Oh, wait, what happened to you? Was it Hootsy?"

"What?"

Spy put his finger on Sniper's left cheek and brushed his soft gloved thumb under a scar there. The Australian's heart skipped a beat and his breath stopped. He could not but ever so slightly turn his head to feel more of the soft touch and his eyelids slid down slowly. Spy noticed but out of fear to just see what he wanted to see, he quickly removed his hand and looked down, embarrassed.

"That scar."

"Oh, uh, that? It-it's the BLU Spook."

Spy frowned.

"We had a bit of a fight and he managed to cut me before backstabbing me."

"L'enfoiré."

[The son of a…]

Spy had mumbled it but Sniper, although he didn't understand the work, got the idea.

"And respawn did not fix it?"

"Apparently not. But it's fine, in a couple o'days it should be history, Doc said."

"Ah, well, that is good to know. Does it hurt?"

"Nah, only if I touch it."

"Oh, my apologies then."

Spy realised that he might have hurt his friend, brushing his gloved finger on it a moment ago.

"Nah, you did nothin' wrong and it didn't hurt…"

An awkward silence fell but Spy broke it.

"I presume you came here for a reason?"

"Yeah, well, if you want, we can go shoppin' now. It's early in the mornin' so there won't be too many people."

"Oh, oui, let's do that."

"Alright, I got the van ready and defrosted but it's still freezin' cold outside so you might want to take something else on top of your jacket."

"Oui, let me get my things…"

Both men stood up and Spy gathered his scarf and heavy, puffy coat. He wrapped his head in his scarf. Sniper watched him and he slightly bent down to try and see his colleague's eyes above the scarf.

"Can you even see?"

"Mmmh!"

"You sound like Pyro now!"

Spy lowered the scarf.

"I said 'oui!'"

"You look cosy in there, like a fox in its den. But yeah, need anything else?"

Spy tapped on his pockets and shook his head.

"Non, we can go."

Spy lead the way out of his flat.

"Oh by the way, do you mind if I leave me Hootsy with your Perle?"

The Frenchman looked up at his colleague.

"Non, not at all."

"Roight, give me a second."

Spy waited in the corridor and after a minute, Sniper came back with his owl on his shoulder.

"Perle, fais attention à lui."

[Perle, take good care of him.]

"Hootsy, you behave!"

\-- Sniper's van --

"Roight, get your seatbelt, Spook. Don't want something bad to happen to the team's 'handsome rogue.'"

"What?!"

"Haha, don't take it like that! I just hear you when you talk to that BLU Spook when you dominate 'im!"

Sniper started the engine and the van started to move.

"Someone's very confident in their looks!"

"Well, Bushman, I've had my little successes."

"I don't doubt that. You're French and classy. Sheilas must fall like flies around you."

"What a beautiful metaphor, you're such a poet."

"Well, I have my days!"

Spy smiled and rolled his eyes up. Sniper quickly looked at him and smiled. His eyes came back to the road ahead.

"Also, your van…"

"What about it?"

"It smells like… Apricots?"

"Yeah, I put this thingy up."

Sniper pointed at the apricot shaped air-freshener hanging off the inside mirror.

"Why an apricot of all fruits and smells?"

"'Cause that's what I aim for in people."

"What?!

"There's this part of the brain that's called medulla oblongata that us snipers call 'the apricot'. If we shoot it, you die before you even realise what hit you."

Spy's jaw dropped and silence fell. Sniper raised an eyebrow and turned to have a look at his silent friend.

"You alroight?"

"O-oui, I just wasn't expecting such medically precise knowledge from you, my apologies. I'm… speechless."

"Yeah well, we know a thing or two to be good in our trade, mate. You don't just wake up one morning, shoot someone in the head and call yourself a Sniper, y'know? It takes some trainin'."

"What kind?"

Spy got his cigarette case out and lit one. Sniper saw him and extended his hand, asking for one.

"You smoke?"

"Occasionally."

Spy gave him the cigarette he had lit and got himself another one.

"Well, obviously our aim has to be perfect. We have to have steady hands too and control our bodies, even our breath."

"Great qualities for a Spy too."

Sniper's eyes shot to his friend who was smirking.

"Oi, you sayin' I could be a Spook?!"

"Hm-mh, well, you'd have to learn a thing or two about dressing up but…"

"Oh, would I? But I'd have a much better aim than you so I guess it'd work…"

"Hey!"

"Hahaha! Got'cha, Baguette Knife!"

Spy crossed his arms and pretended to be angry at his friend. Sniper saw him.

"Oh c'mon, quit your attitude, I was just joking… You're making good progress with your aim. I see you on the battlefield."

Spy relaxed.

"What, you watch me?"

"Well, I try to have a look at everyone, see where people are and sometimes you happen to cross my scope, yeah."

"Mh, I see."

"To be honest, there are things I understand in your job and things I would never be able to do."

"Like what?"

"Well, you're almost sure to be dead when you're found out, same for me, mate. But, you have to deceive people and lie to them constantly, I don't know how you do it!"

"Same as when you aim and shoot, you practise and you get better with experience. And given my old age, I am quite experienced."

"Yeah, you're old."

Spy opened round eyes.

"Bushman! I will not allow you to call me old! How old are you?"

"Younger than you, that's for sure!"

"How do you know?"

"Well… The, uh, I mean I don't want to seem like I'm… Uh…"

"Say it, I don't bite."

Sniper sighed. They had arrived at the supermarket's parking lot and the Australian had parked as close as possible to the store.

"Your hair this morning, the bit that was stickin' out of your mask. It was grey."

Spy lowered his eyes and took a more serious tone.

"Oui, I am indeed that old…"

Sniper stopped the engine and turned to his colleague.

"Why are so sad about it?"

"How would you feel if you looked back on your life and see that you have built nothing? I have spent my time like a butterfly, going from one flower to the next without thinking too much. And I know you will tell me to stop thinking about it but that woman tore a hole in the middle of my life. When I thought I would settle, she sent me flying again, but this time I flew from country to country and the years passed, one after the other, and my hair turned grey, and I have lines on my face."

Spy sighed.

"I have wasted my life."

"No!"

"Oui! All those years when you're young and you have the right age to start building everything, your career, your family. Those years I've spent stealing state secrets and killing people."

Spy was looking down at his hands as if he could see the blood of his victims soaking his gloves.

"Spook."

He raised his eyes to meet his friends'.

"That's not the right way to think. You've made a mistake and to heal, you needed to do that. So you did. Those years that you spent focusing on bein' a good spy were necessary for you to get better. Some people need to change jobs, some others need to pick up a sport, some decide to write or paint. You felt like you had to work. It's fair and above all, you have not wasted that time. You spent it doing what you thought was best for you, at that time. And that's exactly what you needed. Also, you did have some good moments during those years and it made you develop and grow up. I mean, bloody hell mate, you're friends with the Minister of Frogs' Secrets or French Defense, same difference, and whatever that means, it sounds both important and ridiculous!"

Both men chuckled slightly.

"And look at you now, you're going to the store to buy Christmas stuff with a random Aussie bloke. When she left you, would you have been able to jump in an old van and come along for Christmas shoppin'?"

Spy shook his head.

"Exactly, but now you are! So you're definitely over all that garbage, congrats mate. And look…"

The Frenchman raised his eyes and saw the Australian smile.

"Now all you gotta do is smile and enjoy. And please, please spook, stop thinkin' you wasted your life, it's obviously wrong. You're the best spook in France and certainly the best one in the world, _to me."_

Spy smiled and his eyes shone brighter.

"Merci mon ami, and sorry to bring the atmosphere down."

"Nah, I told you the other day. If you need to talk to someone, I'm here. But let's go before the whole of Teufort wakes up and joins us."

"Oui."

They exited the van and entered the store with a trolley.

"First, we need a tree. Ah, there they are."

They got closer and Spy felt overwhelmed by the forest of christmas trees there.

"We want one that's not too tall, but not too small either. You choose."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"But I don't know which one I should go for!"

"Have a look around, do you need me to come with you?"

Spy nodded.

"S'il te plaît."

[Please.]

Sniper raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't it 's'il vous plaît' ?"

"Well, we use 's'il vous plaît' in the plural form or when you talk to someone you owe respect to, like your boss. But if it's a friend, we use 's'il te plaît'."

Sniper smiled as he understood that Spy was considering him like a friend.

"Roight, let's go."

After a couple of minutes, Spy decided on a tree. It was roughly the height of his friend.

"Alroight, tree? Done. Now, you gotta decorate it so let's go hunt for ornaments and tinsel."

Spy followed his friend. He thought that Sniper was awfully patient with him. Well, maybe it made sense. The man is a sniper, that means he was supposed to stay in a nest for hours on end…! Surely that builds up one's patience…

"Hey, why's your pal there wearin' a mask? It's Christmas, not Hallowe'en!"

Spy and Sniper stopped walking and the Frenchman turned on his heels.

"And why would you care, Monsieur?"

"You're scarin' the kids."

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

The man who had interrupted the mercenaries had a young daughter and a son. They were hiding behind their father's legs. Spy crouched down to be at eye level with them.

"Oh, I see you have a candy cane, _ma jolie,_ may I borrow it an instant?"

The young girl, out of fear, gave her candy cane to the Frenchman.

"Hey! Don't you steal her-"

Spy ignored the father talking. He looked at the kids.

"Look what I can do with it."

He spun it around his fingers slowly first and then faster. Sniper opened wide eyes as his friend was showing tricks to the kids whose jaws dropped.

"Wow, that's so cool!"

"You think so? Give me yours, young man, and look."

The young boy obeyed, but not out of fear. He was curious to see what that man with the mask and the funny accent could do.

"Many thanks. Now look."

Still crouching down, the Frenchman took one candy cane in each hand and made them spin. Sniper's jaw dropped. His fingers were so agile and fast, even with the gloves! He threw the candy canes up and standing up, he caught them again and continued to make them flip and dance between his thin fingers.

"See, I'm just a circus clown. I just don't want my colleagues to recognise me, so I wear this ridiculous mask."

He stopped the candy canes and crouched back down. The kids came in front of him.

"Are you like a magician?"

"Madison, Nick."

The father of the two children was now more annoyed at the Frenchman's ability to entertain his children than his mask.

"Yes, I do know some tricks. But maybe another day. Now, here are your candy canes and remember today's lesson. Don't judge a man by its mask, everyone wears one, even if you can't see it. Have a merry Christmas."

"You too!"

Spy sprang back to his feet and walked away, not even looking at the man who interrupted him in the first place.

"Wait, Spook!"

The Australian caught up with him.

"How did you do that?!"

"I usually do it with knives and short blades but I thought it might be inappropriate for young children."

"It was bloody amazin'."

Spy turned to his friend.

"Really? You think so?"

"O'course! You'll have to teach me that too!"

"Well, add that to the list of things you need to learn to become 'a spook', as you say!"

Sniper smiled.

"Yeah, I guess… Oh there we are, ornaments and tinsel. Now have a look and see if you can find anything that you like."

"Fine. Give me a moment."

"I'll go look for some things that I need too."

"Fine."

Sniper and Spy went their separate ways. The Australian was looking for a very small plastic Christmas tree, some lights and some ornaments for his van. As walked through the aisle, his eyes were scanning the wonderful choice of sizes, colours and styles. But his mind was somewhere else.

_What a day… And we're still in the store. Really this Spook is somethin' else. How good he is with the kids! And what did he tell them? Everyone wears a mask. He's right. Even if I don't wear a physical one, I still hide some things and that's fine eh, that's how the world works. Some things are just not good to show or say…_

He took some ornaments and continued to look around.

_And in the van, what he told me. Must be pretty tough to look at your life and think that you wasted it…_

He grabbed some tinsel from a shelf.

_But the best thing was his hand on my cheek._

He didn't realise it, but he smiled.

_Bugger, he did remove it though when he saw that I was, well, melting in his hand…_

He shrugged and sighed.

_After all, the man is a lady magnet. He could be a bloody Hollywood actor. He's elegant, very charmin' and all that. He must have thought I'm a weirdo, or even worse…_

He dismissed the thought and shook his head. Sniper looked at what he had in his arms and was satisfied with what he got, he wasn't missing anything. He went back to the trolley and saw that his friend had been waiting for him.

"Oh, sorry, you been waitin' for long?"

"Centuries."

Sniper put his stuff in the trolley and looked up to Spy. The Frenchman was smiling.

"Sorry, Baguette Knife!"

"I'm joking, Bushman. Now, what's next?"

"Wait, I need to see if you forgot anything… Ah, you even got a star for the top of the tree, that's nice."

"Oui, I tried to get ideas from the decorated trees around the aisles."

"Good idea… Now, the sweaters!"

"Do we really have to?"

"Oh yes!"

"But Headshot Man, they're ugly and very much out of fashion!"

"Exactly! That's precisely why you need one. Come along, Spook!"

The Frenchman rolled his eyes up and followed the enthusiastic Sniper. They were in the men's clothes aisle.

"Look at those, they're fantastic!"

"Bleh."

The Frenchman stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"Oi, bleh yourself! You're gonna get one and wear it! Now, you're from Baguette land, roight? So you must know a thing or two about fashion. Which one would suit me best? This one with the deer or this one with a big present on it?"

Spy rolled his eyes up.

"They're both atrocious, Vegemite-lander."

"Alroight, alroight, let me say it differently. Which one is the least atrocious?"

The Frenchman squinted and put a hand on his chin.

"The one with the present."

"Is the colour alroight? There's a white one, a black one, a red one… Mh… A green one, a pink one?!"

Spy smirked.

"Get the pink one."

"You bloody jokin'?! Uh, yeah you are, you cheeky bastard…!"

The Frenchman laughed.

"The white one will do I think. The present is red which contrasts beautifully with the snow white background."

"Ah, ok, there I go then, sorted! Now for you…"

Spy let his friend have a look there and went deeper in the aisle. His eyes were quickly eliminating the appalling clothes one by one. He came back to his friend.

"Look, Sniper, I thank you for your patience, but I really don't want to be wearing any of these things. Is it fine if we continue our shopping without a jumper for me?"

The Australian looked a bit surprised but he understood his friend.

"Oh, sure, no worries."

He wanted him to be happy and feel at ease. The last thing he wanted was to force Spy to do anything that he didn't want to do.

"Now we need to look for presents."

"For whom?"

"For whoever you want. I usually get something for Hootsy and for my parents. If I'm in Australia, I get something for my friends too. But it's up to you, whoever you want and whatever you want. Now I'm gonna take my stuff so that I finish with the gifts, pay and wait for you in the van, is that ok?"

"Oui, sure, I'll meet you there. Good luck with your hunt."

"And to ya!"

Spy thought he should get something for Sniper. He knew what he'd get him and went straight to take it. Meanwhile Sniper headed for the animal food and products aisle and chose a ribbon with a small bell and some cat treats for Hootsy. He took them and pondered.

I should get some'in' for Spy. But what would he like…? The man likes expensive and classy things…

He walked through the aisles looking left and right to get ideas.

_Food? Nah… Sweets? Nah… Chocolates? The guys has weird taste, whatever I'll take, it won't be refined enough for him... Perfume? I don't know what kind he likes…_

But he knew which kind he himself liked for Spy. Sniper didn't know what it was called but the one Spy was wearing suited him. And the Australian had got used to it so he associated that smell with the Frenchman now. He continued walking.

_Kids' toys? Nah… Clothes? Nah… Oh!_

He saw something and it struck him. That's exactly what he would get for him. He took it and went to the cashier.

\-- Sniper's van --

The Australian man was waiting for his friend to join him and was daydreaming.

_I hope he'll like my gift. He might find it weird though… Nah, I'll just tell him it's for him to get something on Christmas and be in the spirit of things. Worst case scenario, I'll say that. Best case scenario…?_

He shook his head.

_Stop imaginin' things that'll never happen. The bloke is a lady magnet. Not a… A… Not like me._

The van door opened and Spy jumped in.

"Thank you Sniper, hopefully I didn't make you wait for too long."

"Oh, y'know, I just waited there for centuries."

Spy raised his eyes.

"Hey, that's what I told you!"

"You're not the only one who can use the word 'century' now, are ya?"

Sniper started the van's engine and drove the van out of the parking lot.

"Well, I am not but still!"

"Take it as a good thing mate, it shows I'm learning, and _from the best."_

Spy and Sniper looked at each other and for a split second, both of them wished they were seeing what they wanted to see in each other's eyes. They wanted to see a shy flame and wanted to believe that it existed in the other's eyes and that it was only yearning to grow.

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading and thank you to all the people who commented between my realeasing chapter 11 and this one! I feel extremely happy that people like this story :D

Continue to send your opinion on the story, it helps me so much!! :D

See you for number 13 :)


	13. Chapter 13

\-- Spy's smoking room --

"There, we've nearly finished with the tree, Spook."

Both had come back from the store and were organising the decorations in Spy's suite. The tree was in place and it's ornaments really made a bright difference with the rest of the Frenchman's style. Sniper handed him the last few tinsel strands and got busy with the lights.

"What are you…?"

"It's the lights, I know you lot work in the shadows but lights are actually a good thing!"

Sniper put the lights in the tree and went around it a couple of times.

"There we go, now, a plug…? Ah, there!"

"I have finished with the ornaments."

"Great now, c'me here!"

Spy got closer to his friend.

"You plug that in."

"Moi?"

"Yeah, you, Baguette Knife!"

Spy took the plug from Sniper's hand and stuck it to the wall. The lights woke up and blinked in bright, warm colours. Sniper put his hands on the Frenchman's shoulder, from behind him.

"Ah! That's a beaut' of a Christmas tree! Congrats, Spook!"

Spy smiled. Hearing his friend being happy was warming his heart more than the lights on the tree. Also, feeling his warm hands on his shoulder made him relax. His hands were tickling and he wished he could put them on top of Sniper's. Non. Obviously, he couldn't.

" _MEEEEOW!"_

Perle ran from the armchair and came running to play with the lights.

"Oh, I had forgotten about her… Oi, Perle!"

The cat raised her head towards the Australian.

"C'mere, pretty cat."

Sniper released his grip from the Frenchman and crouched down. He put a hand in his pocket and got a red and green thin ribbon out.

"Gimme yer neck, the tree is not the only one to be decorated here…"

The cat stood on her back paws and rested her font ones on Sniper's thigh. She raised her head for the Australian to tie the ribbon. It had a small golden bell, Spy watched in silence.

"There you go."

"You are so gifted, it is remarkable."

"Whot?!"

Sniper sprang back up to stand next to his friend.

"She listens to you as if you were speaking in meows!"

"Well, that's my superpower if you want. I'm really good with animals."

"I had noticed, but I had not realised it was to that extent!"

Both men took a seat on the sofa, in front of the dancing flames.

"Well, it has to be a very useful quirk of yours. Does it work with all animals?"

"As far as I know, yeah. But it comes with a price. Nothin's free."

Sniper's face darkened. He was sitting and bent forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

"What do you mean?"

"Well you've noticed how sometimes I can't speak."

"It happens to everyone. Sometimes you just need a bit of time to find your words."

"Nah, that's not what I mean. Sometimes I… Ugh, nah, I don't want to bring the mood down. Let's talk about some'in' else."

"Sniper."

The Australian raised his eyes to meet with his friend's fair blue ones.

"Please, tell me. You have been kind enough to lend me your ear when I needed it. It is now my turn to repay the favour."

Sniper smiled, albeit sadly.

"Okay. So, sometimes I… Nah, actually, it's all the time. You're gonna laugh but I'm bad when it comes to feelin's."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, well, uh… How can I explain…?"

Sniper put a hand behind his neck and scratched the back of his head.

"When some'in' happens, I feel it. But Spook, when I say I feel it, I _really, deeply_ feel it and it's always been a nightmare. Especially when I was younger."

Spy shyly put his hand on Sniper's shoulder.

"You are a sensitive man, it can't be a bad thing."

"Yeah it bloody is! And the worse part is that I get it when things happen to me but also to people around me. Say someone does somethin' embarrassin' and I see them, I'm the one who turns red as a brick! It's horrible."

Spy smiled.

"It's not, I find it beautiful. I have the opposite problem. I have a heart made of cold stone."

"Well I envy you for that! But yeah, what that means is that I had to train myself to… _desensitise_ myself. That's why now I'm mute most the time when I'm with the others. And I mind my own business. I don't want anyone near me because I know I'll feel all that again."

"You're doing pretty well as far as I can tell."

"Yeah, well, it's hard."

"So, if I understand correctly, you are very sensitive, to the point where even if, say, I was to feel something, you'd sense it too?"

Sniper nodded.

_Merde, je dois être très prudent alors._

[ _Shit, I need to be very careful then.]_

"May I ask, and please tell me if that's none of my business, because you would be right in telling me so but, you mentioned last time that you still had some successes with… Well…"

"Sheilas?"

"Oui."

Sniper sighed and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, Sniper. I will never force you."

The thoughts in the Australian's head were racing.

_Well you bloody idiot, you're clever. It's not that I don't want to talk to you about it. I just don't know how to. You're classy and elegant and, well, older than me. Also you get ladies by the dozen... Chances are, you won't understand._

"I-I… Uh, I mean I…"

Spy desperately wanted to help his friend and give him back the patience that he had received from him.

"Breathe, Sniper. And take your time, I don't have anything planned today so if it takes the day and the night, so be it."

Sniper sighed.

"It was hard with them. Very. I felt like I liked some a lot but I couldn't really, you know, uh…"

"Let yourself go?"

Sniper turned his head and looked at his friend in the eye.

"Y-yeah, I could never, I mean I liked them eh, but I could never just feel what I wanted. I always had to fight myself and hide part of my feelin's. And it was a hit or miss! Sometimes I'd hide too much and they'd leave me because they thought I didn't like them. Sometimes I'd hide less and they'd see me like a… Like a…"

"Too sensitive and not manly enough?"

Sniper closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

"It was hard, too hard for me. So I abandoned the idea. I'm not interested in sheilas anymore, I don't want to go through that again. The constant constraint on myself, having to fight my own self to pretend I'm a decent bloke."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, mon ami."

"What's that mean?"

"What?"

"You keep sayin' it, but I don't understand it."

"What?"

"Mon ami?"

"Oh, it means my friend, because after what I've told you, Headshot Man, you are now dangerous to me and I'd rather have you as a friend than an enemy."

"Whot?!"

"You know my weaknesses. Were you to fight against me, you would have a considerable advantage over me."

"Oi, wait, I'm never gonna fight you and also, now, you have _my weaknesses_ with you too. So we're even."

"Indeed."

Silence fell.

"You're such a Spook."

There was a lot of disappointment in Sniper's voice.

"My apologies."

"I'm sittin' here tellin' you about, well, delicate stuff and all you think about is fightin' and strategies!"

Spy heard annoyance and slight anger in his friend's voice.

"I deeply apologise, Sniper, it was not my intention to say it that way, I just-"

"Well you just did!"

Sniper stood up and left the the sofa. He left Spy's suite and as he slammed the door shut, Spy's heart sank to his feet.

\-- _Sniper's room --_

_Bloody idiot me again… How could I ever think that there was some'in' human behind that mask?!_

Sniper dropped himself on his desk chair, sitting the wrong way around and resting his arms on the chair's back. He rested his chin on his arms and looked through the window.

_Stupid French wanker._

His eyes were locked on the white flakes dancing under the slow breath of the wind, making them swirl lightly.

_If he's stupid then I'm a bloody fool. I should know better. The man's been trained to be a cold-blooded killing machine, a snake. Can't feel anythin' apart from satisfaction when he puts his knife in someone's back…_

The flakes were growing bigger and the wind was blowing more strongly. Sniper's eyes were still stuck on the window. He grunted.

_Why is it always like that?_

He stopped his thought and frowned.

_Nah, actually it's never been like that. Apart from mum and dad, no one knows about me bein' as sensitive as a woman… Still, I'm an idiot for tellin' him all that. I felt I could because he had told me some of his story._

Sniper sighed.

_I can be so stupid sometimes…_

He thought about that moment when Spy switched the lights on, on the tree. Sniper had been staring at his eyes and saw the reflection of the multicolored tiny shiny spots of lights on his light blue, almost grey eyes. His pupils had dilated slightly, like a cat in the dark.

_Bloody hell, why am I smiling on me own now?!_

He frowned and growled again. Sniper put his chair closer to the window. But his mind came back to something else. When he had put his hands on the Frenchman's shoulder. He was behind him and saw the thin neck, smelled the perfume again and felt the slim shoulders under his fingers.

_Bloody hell!_

He had caught himself with his faint reflection on the window, his eyes were dreamy, half closed and his eyebrows were arched up and his lips were pursing in a smile again.

_I can't get him out of my head, I need to go out and do somethin'._

\-- _Spy's smoking room --_

_Je suis un idiot._

_[I am an idiot.]_

Spy put his gloved hand over his face and let it sink, pulling his skin downwards. He sighed and got up, starting to walk back and forth with his hands behind his back. He looked like a prisoner going round and round his invisible cell. Each time he spun on his heels, Spy felt that he was wasting more time and it got him more angry. Each time he walked facing the lights of the Christmas tree, they would blink a couple of times. Each flash of light blinded him and it seemed like the tiny light spots were screaming in his head, telling him off and insulting him. Again, and again.

"PUTAIN DE MERDE!"

[FUCKING HELL!]

He wanted to punch, shred and tear to pieces, break to smithereens. What? Anything would do. He turned around one way and the other, gritting his teeth and breathing loudly, like a rabid dog. He felt angry and powerless. Spy turned, took his coat and exited his suite. He needed some fresh air.

\-- _Outside the base's main building --_

Spy could hardly walk. Each step he took made him sink in the snow up to his knees. The wind was blowing quite strongly and he snowfall was getting more intense. The Frenchman nonetheless didn't care. It was all the better. Feeling the wind slapping him across the face, his tears flowing, and the cold biting his very bones was exactly what he needed. He felt like he was fighting and letting all his rage out with each step forward. It was insanely cold but the frustration and anger boiling inside him kept him warm.

He continued to walk forward and and went further than Sniper's van. He stopped and looked at the horizon. He could barely even see it. Everything was grey and cold. Spy was wearing a thick hood on his head and had wrapped a scarf around his face. Only his tearful eyes were directly in contact with the air.

The blizzard was very loud. Spy put a hand on his scarf and pulled it down, to free his mouth. He then looked down and realised that he had forgotten his gloves inside.

"Je ne suis qu'un idiot doublé d'un con! Un vieux con qui pense qu'il est mieux que tout le monde mais qui en vérité ne vaut pas mieux que le premier abruti venu!"

[I am an idiot and an imbecile! An old imbecile who thinks he's better than everyone else where in fact he is not worth more than the first moron who comes to pass!]

Even his echo did not answer. His shout had been stolen by the wind and buried in the snow. All the better, he needed to shout more.

"Putain de merde! Pourquoi je suis con comme ça des fois? Et pourquoi je fais le con quand en fait, je ne m'en fous pas! Avant je m'en foutais et il n'y avait aucun souci et maintenant j'y tiens, mais je fous tout en l'air!"

[Fucking hell! Why am I stupid like that sometimes? And why do I do that when I actually care?! Before, I used to not care and I was fine! Now I do care but I mess everything up!]

"SHUT UP!"

Spy gasped. He heard the echo of a powerful roar and he recognised that voice. He turned his back and looked around.

"Up there, you bloody wankah!"

Spy raised his head and on top of the van's roof, a tall man was standing.

"Even when I go in a blizzard, you find the way to follow me!"

Sniper was shouting from his van's rooftop.

"This is a public space, jar-man! I am not encroaching upon your property! Also, I hadn't seen you!"

Spy shouted as well, to overcome the blizzard's noise and to let his frustration out.

"Nah but you're shoutin' like you're the only one around!"

"Well that's how it felt when you left!"

"Whot?! You bloody piker, you were the one not carin' when I opened up to ya!"

"And I did apologise for that, you deaf _imbécile_!"

Sniper growled. He went to the ladder at the back of the van and slid down, landing in the snow with a thud. The marksman walked towards Spy and the Frenchman reciprocated, like in a mirror.

"Actually you're roight. I'm the imbecile, I shouldn't have told you anythin' about me!"

"I must be dreaming! I never forced you to do anything, _crétin!"_

"Nah you didn't have to, you manipulated me into doin' it for you, ya snake!"

"Quoi?! If you are an imbécile because you confided in me, then what am I?! I started doing that!"

"Yeah! You're a bloody moron, is what you are and I'm double that because I listened to ya and I believed your lies!"

Spy frowned and gritted his teeth. He raised his naked index finger in a threatening way and pointed it at Sniper's face.

"Ah non! I might be awkward, I might not be the best friend to talk to, I might even make ridiculous mistakes in that field but don't you EVER call me a liar!"

Sniper put his gloved hands on his hips and laughed with a gowl, mocking the shorter man. He delicately took the Frenchman's index between his gloved fingers and put it away.

"EXCUSE ME MISTER PAID-TO-LIE?!"

"I MIGHT BE, BUT I DIDN'T LIE TO YOU!"

"HOW THE HELL AM I S'PPOSED TO KNOW?"

"PARCE QUE JE-!"

[BECAUSE I-]

Spy stopped himself and silence fell. There was only the growling noise of the freezing storm. Spy was looking up to his friend, right in the eye. And Sniper, jaw clenched hard, was staring back. Their eyes were wet with tears and shooting left and right. It had all boiled down to a staring contest and to who could read the other's thoughts. Sniper wanted to know what Spy wanted to say and Spy wanted to know how Sniper would have reacted. The Australian was still holding Spy's index in his fingers, pinching it between his index and thumb.

The Frenchman had not been able to finish his sentence. Non. And he didn't even know what he would have said, what words he would have chosen. The thoughts raced in his head like fireworks shooting in every direction, leaving tails of sparks that split the foggy night sky of his mind. He lowered his eyes and relaxed his eyebrows, looking sadly at the ground when he felt something warm wrapping around his index finger. He raised his head and watched as Sniper had put both his hands around it. The Australian made the Frenchman open his hand and sandwiched it between his, rubbing them to warm it up.

"Your hands are getting blue with the cold, idiot."

"I forgot my gloves."

"I see that. Not exactly thoughtful, are ya?"

"I was angry, I needed some fresh air. I did not think a storm was raging outside."

"No, you didn't think, that's true."

Spy felt the cold all of a sudden. There was no frustration and no rage keeping him warm anymore. His teeth started chattering in the cold and he realised he had lost all feeling in his left hand. He raised it and wanted to slide it between Sniper's. The taller man took it and put it with the other one, between his.

"I apologise, Sniper, I really do. It was stupid of me to react that way. Especially after you've been so very helpful to me."

The Australian, whose eyes were locked on the Frenchman's hands, raised his eyes up slightly to look Spy in the eye.

"It's ok. But yeah, that's not how friends work, Spook."

His eyes went down to the Frenchman's thin lips. They were turning blue-ish with the cold.

"Uh, mate, I, uh, I mean… Uhm…"

Spy's heart warmed up. That hesitating voice. He liked it very much. He didn't care that the message that it wanted to convey was unclear. The Frenchman liked that voice. He could not help but smile.

"Say it in French."

Sniper frowned and closed his eyes to try and remember the word.

"Ta bouche…"

[Your mouth…]

Spy opened wide eyes and his pupils dilated gigantically. He realised the Australian was staring at his lips.

"Elle est bleue."

[It is blue.]

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Your lips, they're blue, you must be bloody freezin'! Can you feel anything at all?"

Spy's pupils shrank back in an instant and somewhere deep inside, oui, he was slightly disappointed.

"I can't feel my fingers and feet. And I'm starting to lose my lips to."

"How are you still alive at this point?"

"Well, _someone_ told me I was a snake. Those creatures have cold blood."

Sniper looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I don't think that of you."

"I'm relieved you don't. But let's go back inside if you don't mind, I'm really starting to feel unwell."

"O'course. Can you still walk?"

"Oui, I think so."

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading and as always please let me know what you think!

I'd like to thank all the people who commented on this story, it really boosts me up a lot. To know that people enjoy my vision of Sniper/Spy really means a lot to me.

Again, special thanks to Deathtothecrows for the help with the _Englishness_ _!_

See you for number 14 :)


	14. Chapter 14

Spy was frozen to the bone. He couldn't even hold the key straight to unlock his door so Sniper did it for him. Both mercenaries thanked God nobody saw them. They had entered the base with Sniper supporting Spy and helping him walk. 

_\-- Spy's smoking room --_

"There you go, in front of the fire."

Sniper had made Spy sit on his armchair.

"Now let me help ya. You need to remove your trousers, mate, they're soaked. Where can I get you another pair?"

Spy, teeth chattering, pointed at the bedroom door. 

"Uhm, roight, but, uh, d'you want to… I mean maybe you'd rather get them yerself?"

Spy shook his head slowly. Sniper pushed the armchair closer to the fire.

"Alroight, I'll be as quick as possible."

Sniper went to the door, opened it and slipped in his friend's room. He wished he could not see anything but the pair of trousers. But of course, his vision was far from being tunnelled…

Spy's bedroom had light blue paint on the walls. His bed was a large, double in size, with a dark wooden frame. The bedsheets were navy blue and the Frenchman had an incredible quantity of pillows of various sizes and shapes. It did not surprise Sniper, it only made him smile. Everything was tidy and the Australian could not help but notice the absence of anything _really_ _personal._ No framed pictures, no souvenirs of any kind, no knick-knacks. It almost looked like a hotel room. 

He grabbed the pair of trousers that was neatly folded on the bed. He noticed a wool plaid on the back of a chair. He took it too and exited the bedroom, coming back to his friend's side.

"Here, I'll prepare something for you in the kitchen. You wear this and take your time."

Sniper unfolded the plaid and wrapped his friend in it. Spy's lips were still blue and he was moving with great difficulty as his whole body was shaking. 

"W-wait… Stay, please…"

"Mate, you really are dyin' or some'in'. Should I get the doc'?"

Spy shook his head and extended his hand. Like a reflex, Sniper took it in his and he realised how cold they were. 

"Blimey… Wait, I have an idea."

The taller man went behind the sofa and pushed it closer to the fireplace. 

"Now, we go on the sofa."

Sniper helped the frozen man to get up and move on the sofa. 

"And now, you lay down, I'll get the blanket on you… There… Good. Now give me just a minute, I'll be right back."

The Australian left the room and the Frenchman alone with his thoughts. He was trying to hold on to life as the shaking in his body was too strong for him to contain. He sat up slowly and changed his trousers. Spy then laid down again. He felt the heat from the flames and closed his eyes to appreciate the soft and irregular warmth. When he opened them again, Sniper was sitting next to his feet. 

"Can you sit up?"

Spy obliged, slowly. Sniper took the blanket and wrapped it around the both of them. 

"Now, I'll hold the cup for you 'cause you'll get a shock otherwise. Just get your lips on it and drink."

The Australian lifted the cup of herbal tea he had prepared in the kitchen to the Frenchman's lips. The poor man took a shy sip first but then gulped the liquid faster.

"Crickey, you were thirsty?!"

Spy stopped drinking and nodded.

"Merci…"

The tea was not very hot as Sniper knew that the last thing someone in hypothermia needs is something hot. He put the empty cup away.

Both men were sitting next to each other and Sniper took Spy's hands in his, blowing on them and rubbing them to get them to warm up. 

"You idiot, forgettin' your gloves…"

"I… know…"

Sniper was sitting at Spy's left. He looked down at him. The Frenchman was staring at the flames almost blankly. It both broke the marksman's heart and it motivated him to do whatever it takes to help his friend. 

"Are you feelin' a bit better?"

Spy nodded. 

"Oui, merci, I can feel my lips much better now."

"Oh thank God. That's good to hear."

"Thank you, Headshot Man."

Spy wanted to lean his head against his friend again. The warmth from the flames and from the plaid were slowly diffusing through his body, waking up his limbs bit by bit. But what made him feel warm inside was the heat radiated by his friend who was sitting right next to him. Their arms were touching, even a small part of their thighs. Spy closed his eyes as he wished very hard that this moment could last forever. 

"It's nothin'. You'd do the same for me."

"Oui, without any doubt."

Sniper smiled and looked down at his friend. 

"You're absolutely ridiculous, Spook."

He said that as he exhaled, in his breath, with his low voice. Ah, that voice. It was between a whisper and an actual speaking voice. Spy liked it too much for his own good and smiled. Had he been a cat, he would purr each time Sniper would talk to him in that low, growl-like voice. 

"Oui, I am in fact, an utter fool."

"An idiot."

"Un imbécile."

"A moron."

"Un crétin."

Sniper curled his hand around his friend's back and put it on his right arm, moving it up and down, to warm him with the friction. Spy's heart burst in his chest and he melted in happiness. He had been missing those things. Physical contact, the comforting warmth of the body of the person you, well, _like._

"But you know what?"

Sniper stopped moving hand fast and only held his friend close to him. 

"I'm also an idiot."

"Oui, we are both a credit to the institution of badly communicating human beings."

Sniper smiled. 

"Yeah, I s'ppose we are. But I'm sorry, Spook. I shouldn't have left so suddenly. I should have tried to understand you first. But then again, you're not anyone, you're The Spy and I'm sorry but it'll take time for me to trust you."

"I understand."

"Also, I reacted like that because I told you somethin' that very few people know about me and that's not…"

"It makes you vulnerable."

"Y-yeah, kinda."

"I understand, Bushman. I owe you an apology for being myself, a selfish and arrogant spy."

"Yes and no. Yes you owe me an apology but not for bein' yerself. It's my job as a friend to accept you."

"But it doesn't hurt if I make an effort."

"It doesn't but don't change."

"Oh, well, that's precisely my job."

"Maybe, but it's not your personality."

Spy looked up to Sniper. 

"Thank you Bushman."

" _De rien, mon ami."_

[You're welcome, my friend.]

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Oh, I see you got some pink back in your cheeks, mate."

Spy blushed even more.

"Hahaha! I think you're warming up nicely."

"Well indeed I am, and that's all your fault, Headshot Man!"

"Oh is it now? Maybe I should just leave you there to defrost like some bad turkey before Christmas?!"

Sniper removed his arm from around his friend.

"Non, please!"

Spy leant on him more. 

"Please, stay, I, well, I quite enjoy your company."

Sniper smiled and blushed slightly.

" _Oh, I see you got some pink back in your cheeks, mate."_

"Whot?! Stop imitating me, you Spook!"

Both men laughed at each other until a knock on the door cut their moment or happiness short. 

"Can you please take it?"

"Yeah, o'course but uhm, you sure you want, uh? You sure you want people to uh?"

"Oui, go ahead."

Sniper looked hesitant for a split second. The Frenchman, who previously had said that he considered dangerous his confiding in Sniper, was now agreeing to show the rest of the mercenaries that indeed, the marksman was a friend to him. Spy looked at him and smiled. He nodded and closed his eyes at the same time, as if to insist on his decision.

"Roight then."

Sniper walked to the door and opened. He looked at his eye level and seeing no one, he lowered his head. Engineer was standing there, looking up at the Australian.

"Oh, hey Sniper, I didn't expect to find you here, pardner. I guess Spy's there with you?"

"Y-yeah."

"Well, I just received a message from the Admin. Due to the snow, we're in a cease fire for as long as the blizzard goes."

"Really?"

"Yeah, have you seen the snowfall? It's he gettin' pretty intense now."

"Oui, we know."

Spy had walked from the sofa to the door, still wrapped up in his plaid and hunching his back slightly.

"Oh, mate, wait… There… You should have stayed on the couch, you're still weak!"

Sniper helped his friend stand up.

"Are you alright Spah?"

"Bah, I caught a bit of the cold."

"Wanna see Sawbones?"

"Non merci."

The Frenchman said, raising his hand.

"Sniper does an excellent job already." 

"Alrighty then, I'll leave ya to it."

" 'preciated mate."

Engie left and Sniper shut the door. 

"Now let's take you back to your couch, Mister. You need to rest."

"Fine."

Both men sat on the sofa in front of the fire. Spy was tightly wrapped up and at that point, he was pretty much warmed up. He nonetheless wished Sniper could get in the plaid with him, like he previously was. 

_Merde, Engie…!_

Spy cursed the short man in his mind. 

"Oh, d'you mind if I… Uh…"

"Oui?"

"Well, it was quite cosy under yer blanket so uhm…"

Spy smiled and raised his left arm while holding the blanket up, like a bird opening its wing. Sniper opened wide eyes. 

"Y-you sure?"

Spy was resisting the urge to wrap his arm and the blanket around Sniper and just nodded. The Australian seemed to hesitate but he soon yielded and got closer to his friend. 

"Thanks mate."

"Avec plaisir."

[My pleasure.]

Sniper adjusted the plaid around him and his friend.

"Feel any better?"

"Considerably."

The Australian first thought it was irony and looked down at Spy, slightly annoyed, when he felt the Frenchman lean on him. He smiled and felt oh so warm… Spy had certainly warmed up as his body heat was diffusing slowly to the marksman's heart, like a warm vapor which wreathed, curled and wrapped around his soul. Sniper closed his eyes. 

"May I ask you something, Sniper?"

He opened his eyes quickly. 

"Y-yeah."

"You told me you were very sensitive. But how come you became a paid mercenary?"

"My dad told me how to use a rifle and we soon understood that I was very good with it. So when I finished school, I picked up huntin' contracts. Mainly pest-control things. Back in Australia, we do have some scary species, y'know?

"Mh-hm."

Sniper felt Spy's voice resonate in him and it gently tickled him, on the inside.

"I even took a huntin' contract just for money. I did that once, and I'll never forget how wrong it felt to kill that crocodile. I spent the next fews days unable to sleep and I kept on vomiting whatever I tried to eat. I felt disgustin'. That beast didn't ask for anythin' and I took its life, for what? Money? Bloody disgustin'."

The Australian shook his head. 

"So I completely switched and worked the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

"I worked in animal's reserves. I would go there unnoticed and scare poachers away. I wouldn't kill them but hurt them enough to give'em a good fright."

"Unnoticed?"

"Well, I… I, I'd break in animal reserves, yeah…"

"And nobody ever found you out?"

Sniper shook his head. 

"Nah, but people noticed how poachers would come around less and less. I got a nickname out of it."

"Oh?"

" _The Phantom."_

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was short for 'Phantom of the beasts.' Some people that it was some kind of pay back, as if the spirit of the poached animals would come back and take care of the hunters."

Spy smiled.

"You definitely would make a decent spy, Bushman."

Sniper chuckled. 

"Maybe. But I'm bad at lyin' or manipulatin' people."

"That's a skill you learn with time and experience."

"I guess so."

Sniper shyly leant his cheek on the Frenchman's head. He did not rest his head fully, no. Spy would surely push him away for that. He did just enough to feel the fabric of the Frenchman's mask brush his cheek, and closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling, letting the sweet faint cologne tickle his nostrils.

"Can I ask you something, Spook?"

"Oui, bien sûr."

[Yes, of course.]

"Bein' all classy n'French you must have… well… _impressed_ quite a lot of people."

"You mean ladies?"

"Y-yeah."

"Oui, that's true."

"Was it part of your job too?"

"Sometimes. But for some of them I did have a genuine interest." 

"Ah."

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I, no I mean, uh, it's just, uhm…"

Spy chuckled. 

"Ugh, sorry, I did it again…"

"Don't apologise."

"Well it's annoyin', not bein' able to speak my bloody mind."

"That's because you hold yourself back, Bushman. You're too honest to lie so you constantly look for a better, less sentimental way to phrase your thoughts."

Sniper blushed and rested his cheek a bit more on the Frenchman's head.

"Have you ever tried to speak what you think?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, have you ever really bluntly spoken your mind?"

"Not really."

"You should."

"Nah."

"Why?"

"Because then I'm not a good person."

He paused for a bit. 

"Spook, it's very hard to find the right level of honesty. And, y'know, there are things better left untold, at least partially."

"Fair enough, _tu prêches un convaincu."_

"Whot?"

"It's an expression in French, it means 'you're preaching someone who is already convinced.'"

"Oh, in English it's 'you're preaching to the choir.'"

Silence fell and was only disturbed by the crackling of the flames in the fireplace. But Sniper soon broke it. 

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"But of course."

"Why don't you want to sing? When we listen to some music, I play the sax but you never want to show me what you can do with that voice o'yours."

"You already know why."

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"Wait, what? I don't know, no, why?"

"The exact same reason that makes you stutter sometimes."

He paused and looked at the flames sadly. 

"I get too emotional."

"Really?"

"Oui. And that's bad."

"I know…"

"Especially for a secret agent."

"Hm. Y'know what?"

Spy hesitated to move his head to look his friend in the eye but he decided against it. He liked feeling Sniper's hand on his arm and his head on his own too much to break that moment. 

"What?"

"I'll speak my mind more only if you sing in front of me."

Spy opened big round eyes. He couldn't accept. As much as he wanted the Australian to confide in him and share the thoughts that he was used to bury at the bottom of his soul, he did not want to show himself like that yet. 

"Sniper, I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Neither can I. If I really told you whot I'm thinkin' you'd think I'm an idiot, at least."

"Well then, we're two."

Sniper wished in his heart that Spy indeed was thinking and feeling the same. But he had been there before, countless times. He had learnt his lesson, the hard way, countless times again. He would feel it in his cheeks and his heart, the soft stinging, the heat, the world would vanish around the one person. Only _they_ counted then, no one else. And he would lose any ability to think _straight, so to speak…_

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"Am I, uh… I mean maybe I… Am I, ugh, I don't know how to say it."

"Say it as you think it."

"Nah I can't."

_I'd lose you if I said it as I'm thinkin', and I don't want that._

"Are uh, _comfy enough_ like that? Or am I, uh-?"

"It is very good."

"Y-you sure?"

"Oui." 

Sniper half-whispered to himself:

"Ah, good then, I guess."

But the Frenchman heard it and wanted, just this once maybe, to slightly overstep the mark and see how the Australian would react. He knew he was treading on a land mine but the chance was too good not to seize. 

"You _guess?"_

"I mean I'm glad I'm not uh, crushing you or anythin'... I just-I just like the fabric of yer mask, it's very soft."

Spy grinned. Being a master of lies and half-truths, he could detect them easily and oh Lord, _that_ was a very poor lie. He also felt the top of his head warm up. Sniper had no doubt turned as red as a brick.

"You like my mask? I can lend you one if you want?"

Obviously, the Frenchman was teasing his friend but Sniper was oblivious to it and missed the joke completely. 

"Whot?! No! That's not what I meant, I just uh…"

Spy freed himself from his friend's embrace. He needed to look in his eyes to say what he had to say. 

"I _know_ what you meant."

Sniper felt hot from his toes to his ears and he swore he could feel steam escaping from them. Spy's light blue eyes were piercing through his face and reading his thoughts written on the

ethereal paper of his soul. The Australian started sweating. 

"No need to be nervous. As I previously said, I also enjoy your company, Bushman."

And Spy leant back on his friend.

"People rarely see me like this."

"Whot d'you mean?"

"You said it, I am a snake, frighteningly cold-blooded, arrogant. That's not exactly what I am showing you now." 

He said as he snuggled against Sniper's chest closer and heard the racing heart of the taller man. He put a hand against it and said, in his soft, velvet voice. 

" _Calme-toi, Sniper."_

[Calm down, Sniper.] 

The Australian could not take it anymore. Not only was Spy leaning his head against his chest but he was also… _laying his thin fingers on his heart._ Sniper torn apart on the inside. He coud either stand up and go away or make a move that could possibly end his friendship with the Frenchman. He sweated more. His body screamed at him to go for the first option and risk it all but his mind was scared. 

_You know what happens if you go for option 1, Mundy. It will be yet another shipwreck, yet another couple weeks of isolation, not being able to sleep or eat properly. Is it really what you want, again? Have you not learnt your lesson yet?_

Sniper could feel the pressure in his head, as if the walls of his skull were shrinking and pressing his brain, squeezing it tighter. His vision shrank and became cloudier and cloudier. He closed his eyes, frowned hard and gritted his teeth. 

"Merci, Sniper."

Sniper's eyes snapped open. He looked down and saw his own arms around the Frenchman, holding him close. He lowered his head and rested his cheek on the top of Spy's head again. He smiled, albeit sadly as he realised that he had been craving for physical contact from another human being for a long time. He turned his head every so slightly, trying to make sure Spy would not feel his lips on the top of his head.

Too bad, the Frenchman did. 

_**\-- Author's notes --** _

Thanks for reading as always :) !

Special thanks to Deathtothecrows for having proofred it, as always :)

Let me know what you think of this one and _hopefully, it will have been worth the wait!_

See you all for 15 :)


	15. Chapter 15

Sniper opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times. He was back in his room and Hootsy was sleeping on the desk, in the scarf that he had arranged as a nest. 

_Bloody hell, how did I end up here? Ah, yeah, I remember._

He would have preferred to stay with the Frenchman the whole evening but it would have been weird to spend the night with him, even just on the sofa. So he had gone back to his room and had fallen asleep quite fast, a million butterflies in his stomach. 

_Bloody hell. I did it, I-I left my lips on his head and closed my eyes. And he…_

He opened wide eyes. 

_He didn't push me back. He…_

Sniper gulped and felt tense. 

_He hugged me tighter…? Or did I imagine it? Did I dream it? Nah, I can't be that out of my head…_

He took a moment to breathe before resuming his train of thought. 

_I'm bloody ridiculous. I'm fallin' for a bloke I haven't even seen the face of._

Sniper put his hand over his own face and slid it down.

_Well, technically, I've seen the back of his head. But still, that's not his face. And I don't even know his name! I bet he has one of those weird posh French ones, like Jean-Pierre or some'in'..._

The Australian daydreamed for a while, his mind busy with the mysteries surrounding his masked friend. He did not know it but down the few stairs at the end of the corridor, the Frenchman was also up. 

_\-- Spy's bedroom --_

The Frenchman woke up after Perle had bullied him, kneading her claws on his chest first and when he turned, on his shoulder and back.

"Mon Dieu, Perle, s'il te plaît!"

[My God, Perle, please!]

But the fluffy feline insisted to get her food and Spy yielded.

"Je n'aurais jamais du te gâter autant."

[I never should have spoiled you that much.]

He half-heartedly got out of his bed and put a gown on. Perle followed him happily, knowing that she had managed to get what she wanted. Indeed, the Frenchman was heading for her food bowl. The lights on the Christmas tree flashed at him and surprised him at first. He blinked a couple of times.

_Ah, oui, le sapin de Noël._

_[Ah, yes, the Christmas tree.]_

He smiled at it, as if the tree would greet him back, and filled Perle's food bowl. 

"Voilà, bon appétit!"

[There you go, enjoy your meal.]

The Frenchman carded his hair and rubbed his eyes. He went to prepare a cup of coffee and put some music on the radio. He sat on the sofa and took his magazine to pass the time while his coffee brewed. Spy got back to that article that made him put the magazine away the other day.

_Dating tips, your winter will be far from lonely!_

He smiled. He definitely did not need any of that nonsense to have a good friend. And what a friend! 

_Sniper._

He smiled at the thought of the man who had almost kissed his head the day before. But had he done that out of compassion and maybe pity for his frozen self, or was it for other reasons? Reasons that Spy could only wish were really the ones behind his friends late night embrace the day before. 

But one has to be careful and the Frenchman had overstepped the mark. He had pushed the Australian to do and say more than he wanted. Today, he shall leave him alone. Yes, he shall not bother him. Besides, there was no real reason for him to go and bother his friend. 

_Quel dommage._

[ _What a shame.]_

A voice within him said. He got out of the sofa and poured the coffee in a cup. The Frenchman roamed through his cupboards, looking for anything to have with his coffee, but to no avail. 

"Merde… Je crois que j'ai laissé quelques choses dans la cuisine."

[Shit… I think I have left some things in the kitchen.]

_\-- Kitchen --_

Sniper was alone there as it was still very early in the morning. He was sipping his coffee, Hootsy on his shoulder, standing in front of the window. 

The blizzard was still raging outside and the snow was piling up to his waist. Quite impressive, he thought, as it was the first time he saw that much snow. He could hardly see his van and thought that he made the best decision when he came to the base. It must be sub-zero temperature there now. His coffee pot was not empty and must have turned into a solid block. 

The Frenchman entered the kitchen and saw his friend. He nonetheless did not want to bother him. He silently went to his cupboard and opened it. Spy took his packs of French biscuits and left as silently as he first had entered. 

Sniper took another sip of his coffee. 

_Wait._

He turned his back. Nothing. He swore he could smell his friend perfume. The Australian frowned and his eyes scanned every square inch of space behind him. 

_Mmh… Now I smell him even when he's not here, great._

Sniper sighed and turned back to look through the window, frowning still. 

_Bloody ridiculous. This has to stop._

He finished drinking his coffee and went back to his room before anyone else woke up and joined him in the kitchen. He needed to be alone, with his thoughts. 

_\-- Sniper's room --_

The Australian laid on his bed, his back to the wall and played with Hootsy who was walking on his stomach. 

"Whot d'you reckon, Hootsy, hm?"

The owl raised his head and looked at his master. 

"D'you think I'm just seeing what I want to see?"

Sniper got his index finger close to Hootsy's beak and the bird bit it softly. 

"I might just be imaginin' it, it wouldn't be the first time." 

Hootsy released his grip on the marksman's finger and brought a small toy ball to his master. Sniper took it and threw it on the bed for Hootsy to fetch. 

"It's so hard to know though. What is he thinkin' behind that mask of his? He might just be playin' a game with me and I don't even know."

Hootsy brought the ball back and again, the Australian threw it. 

"I wish I could just know what he feels really."

The owl looked at Sniper with big round eyes and tilted his head. 

_But you know what he feels._

"Nah I don't."

_You usually do with people._

"Yeah, well, not this time."

_Why?_

"He's… He's complicated, he can lie very well. As he said, it's a question of experience, and yeah, he has plenty of it. That's why I can't know what he feels."

_Nah, that's not why you can't read him._

"Why then?!"

Hootsy blinked. 

_You know why._

\-- _Spy's smoking room --_

The Frenchman was catching up with his reading but his mind was busy with other thoughts than the ones the magazine was aiming at. 

He put the paper down on his lap and Perle jumped up next to him on the sofa. 

"Qu'est-ce que tu en penses?"

[What do you think of it?]

The cat sat and licked her paws. 

"Tu penses que je lui plais vraiment?"

[Do you think he really likes me?]

Perle stopped mid-lick and raised her head. 

_Depuis quand tu te demandes si tu plais vraiment à quelqu'un?_

_[Since when do you wonder if you caught someone's eye? You always do.]_

"Quoi?!"

[What?!]

_Lucien, tu as toujours séduit qui tu veux. Pourquoi tu doutes aujourd'hui?_

_[Lucien, you have always seduced who you wanted. Why do you doubt now?]_

"Parce qu'il est fondamentalement gentil et honnête. Il ne calcule pas, il n'a aucune arrière-pensée. Il réagit sans trop y réfléchir et c'est très rare."

[Because he is fundamentally kind hearted and honest. He doesn't overthink and try to manipulate you, he has no thoughts at the back of his mind. He reacts without thinking too much, and that's very rare.]

Perle resumed her cleaning. 

_C'est tout?_

[ _Is that all?]_

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire?"

[What do you mean?]

_Tu veux me faire croire à moi que tu ne sais pas si tu lui plais parce qu'il est gentil?!_

_[You want to make me believe, me of all people, that you don't know if he really likes you because he is kind-hearted?!]_

"Oui."

[Yes.]

_Lucien, pas à moi._

_[Lucien, you can't make me believe that, not to me.]_

The Frenchman looked at the flames dancing in front of him and bit his lip, frowning. Perle was right. He pondered for a while, staring at the flames. He needed to find it in himself, the courage to face it, to admit it. He put his fingers on his temples and rested his elbows on his thighs. The magazine slid and fell down, flapping the pages open. He closed his eyes and thought hard. 

_Merde, Perle a raison, comme toujours… Je ne sais pas si je lui plais parce que… argh!_

_[Shit, Perle is right, as always… I don't know if he likes me because… argh!]_

He felt his feline friend brush herself against him. He removed his hands from his temples and looked at her. 

"Je ne sais pas si je lui plais parce que je n'ai pas envie de voir seulement ce que je veux voir."

[I don't know if he really likes me because I don't want to only see what I want to see.]

Perle purred and the Frenchman laid back on the sofa. She curled in his lap and looked up at him with her big blue eyes that, Spy now realised, were the same shade as Sniper's, only a bit darker that his own very light blue, almost grey ones. He sighed. 

"Je crois qu'il me plaît, Perle."

[I think I like him, Perle.]

He rested his head on the sofa's back and looked at the ceiling. 

"Je crois qu'il me plaît."

[I think I like him.]

He repeated as the sound of his own voice saying it was both relieving and horrifying. It was taking a huge weight off his heart but actually it was removing a kilogram to replace it with a ton. Spy put a hand on his chest.

_Merde._

His heart was racing and he felt hot. 

"Perle?"

_Oui?_

"Je crois que je l'aime."

[I think I love him.] 

The air was scarce and he could only breathe in short bursts. He knew the implications of what he had just said. That was it. He had hit the point of no return now. He had just admitted it, it was said loud and clear and all his belongings in the room were now witnesses, maybe even accomplices. He cursed everything around him. The coat-hanger, the armchair, the sofa, the mug, the fireplace. They were all accomplices. They had all contributed to trap him that way.

"Meow?"

"Huh?!"

He gasped. Perle's voice broke his rise of anxiety and made it all pop like a balloon with a needle. Her meow had gripped him by his collar and pulled him violently back down to earth, on his sofa. 

_Donc tu l'aimes?_

_[So, you love him?]_

"Oui, je crois."

[Yes, I think so.]

_Bien._

_[Good.]_

He looked at her. She was smiling. 

"Pourquoi tu souris comme ça? Ça te fait plaisir de me voir terrifié?!"

[Why do you smile at me like that? You like seeing me terrified?!]

_Non, ça me fait plaisir de retrouver le Lucien que j'ai connu au début._

[ _No, I'm just glad to find the Lucien I had known a long time ago.]_

He raised an eyebrow. 

_Tu te souviens la dernière fois que tu te sentais comme ça? Tout chaud à l'intérieur?_

_[Do you remember the last time you felt like that? Warm on the inside?]_

He slowly opened wide eyes. His mouth went dry and his lips parted. 

"Merde…."

[Shit…]

He did remember. And that had not ended well.

"MEEEEOW!"

Perle screeched and pulled her claws out. 

"Quoi?!?"

[What?!?]

She hissed at her master and climbed on him, all claws out. He could feel them sting through his cashmere top.

_LUCIEN! Arrête de penser à ça! Et ce n'est pas une mauvaise chose que tu ressentes ces choses-là! Regarde-toi, tu es heureux, tu es plein de vie, tu n'as pas de mal à te tirer du lit!_

_[LUCIEN! Stop thinking about it! And it's not a bad thing that you feel that way! Look at yourself, you're happy, you're full of life, you don't struggle to get out of bed!]_

Spy looked at his cat and lowered his head. She was right, as always, and again.

_Tu l'aimes et c'est beau._

_[You love him and that's beautiful.]_

The Frenchman smiled. He had needed to be yelled at to realise that indeed, what he was going through was far from being bad. He had been missing those emotions. The blush to his cheeks, the very careful play around with words, trying to push one's luck without being too blunt, the shy hands brushing the other's, the breaths cut short, the million butterflies flapping their colourful wings and warming up everything inside, that sweet and slow flame burning inside…

His smile grew wider and he half closed his eyes. Spy sighed and stroked Perle. 

"Oui, je l'aime."

[Yes, I love him.]

But he soon frowned. He still didn't know if the Australian felt the same and knowing how shy he is, the Frenchman did not anticipate his friend to take the first step forward. He pondered. If Spy went and asked Sniper directly, he might well ruin that very precious relationship.

"Hm… Donc si je veux que ça avance, je prends un risque. Ou alors, je peux juste profiter de ces moments, sans trop poser de question."

[Hm… So if I want things to go forward, I am taking a huge risk. Or, I can merely take advantage of those moments, without questioning it too much.]

The Frenchman frowned. Did he want to push forward? Or could he content himself with the occasional hugs? One thing he knew for sure, he did not want to lose those precious moments. He liked them way too much and as Perle said, they were the reason the Frenchman woke up with a smile now. And it had been such a long time since it last happened. Then it is settled, he shall enjoy those moments, without pushing the Australian too much. Neither should he expect too much. In this situation, he knew that yes, he would love more from Sniper than the occasional moments of tenderness but he wouldn't put him in an uncomfortable situation. Besides, he must be extremely careful as he had told him of his very acute empathy; something Spy was most definitely lacking. 

The Frenchman sighed. He crossed his legs and Perle left his lap. He put his elbow on the armrest. He rested his head on his knuckles, tilting it slightly. Spy wanted to see Sniper. He wanted to hear his voice, see him smile and hear him laugh. 

He frowned. He needed an excuse, anything would do. 

_\-- Sniper's room --_

Sniper was still lost in thought, playing with Hootsy when a noise forced him back to reality. He sat up on his bed and pricked his ears up. 

_Whot the…?_

Hootsy heard it too and flew to the door knob. The Australian thought it was coming from the door too, the noise of wood being scratched. He got off his bed and opened the door. 

_No one?! Oh…_

His eyes travelled down and on the floor Perle was sitting, her front paws up and a Christmas ornament in her mouth. Sniper looked right and left. No trace of Spy. 

"Come in," He half whispered. 

The cat shifted her weight from her back legs to all four and trotted in his room. Sniper shut the door and crouched down. 

"G'day, pretty cat."

He stroked her head. 

"It's nice of you to come and see me. But why the Christmas ornament in your mouth eh? And does Spy know you stole it?"

She dropped it on the floor and purred under the Australian's hand. 

"Nah, of course. He might be one hell of a sneaky bastard but, you're sneakier, innit?"

She seemed to smile and Sniper smiled back at her. 

"You need to take it back to him though. I won't do anything with it here."

He took it in his hand and extended it for Perle to grab. But she sat proudly, ignoring him completely and waving her white fluffy tail. 

"Pearl?"

She licked her paw and didn't pay attention to him. He frowned. 

"I know you can hear me and understand me. Why are you doin' this now?"

She put her paw down and turned her back. She was now facing the door and scratching it, as if to ask him to open it. Sniper obliged and Perle headed to her master's room, through the corridor. The Australian, still confused, followed her with his eyes and watched her stop and sit, facing him from the other end of the corridor. 

"Meow?"

_Fine, I'll go myself…_

He had been reluctant to follow Perle straight away only out of respect for his friend. He didn't want to disturb him yet another time again because of his cat. But deep down inside, Sniper was only waiting for an opportunity to visit the masked man and _God save that pretty cat…_

The Marksman left his room, followed Perle down the few stairs and stopped in front of Spy's door. He looked down at Perle as he felt like a school boy about to knock at the principal's office door.

_Bugger… What am I s'pposed to say? 'Hey, your cat stole a Christmas ball and insisted that I bring it meself?'- oh wait, whot's that?_

He got his ear closer to the door.

_He's singin'._

Sniper put his hands flat against the door and closed his eyes to focus only on the sound of Spy's voice. He switched off any other physical stimulus to have his full attention on that voice he liked, the slight accent that tickled not only his ears, but his very heart too. His eyes snapped open when he recognised the song. He looked at his feet, Perle had gone in her master's suite through the cat door. 

"Howdy pardner?"

Sniper froze. 

"Uh?!"

"Sorry to scare you, I was just passing by. You alright?"

Engie had come up the stairs, out of his garage. 

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I-uh, I gave a knock on his door but with the music, I think he didn't hear me… Thing is, I really need to see him because, uh, well, uh, he-he lent me some'in' and I need to give it back to 'im, see?"

Sniper had started sweating and reached his hand back to the nape of his neck.

"Ah, alrighty then, you might wanna knock again."

"Yeah, cheers mate."

Engie nodded and went away. Now Sniper was trapped, he had to knock. And so he did. 

The Frenchman cut his music, put on his mask and gloves and resumed a more cold-blooded attitude before opening the door. As he pulled the knob and looked up, his heart burst in his chest. It was Sniper! 

"Hey mate, uhm, sorry to bother you."

"You don't bother me at all, mon ami. Please, do come in."

Sniper obliged. 

"As usual, make yourself at home. Do you want to drink something? Some coffee maybe? "

Spy was talking as well as guiding his guest to the sofa where they both sat. His eyes were shining with joy.

"Uh, actually I just came to hand you this back."

Sniper opened his hand while looking at it and Spy saw the shiny ball. 

"Perle stole it and brought it to me and, well, uh, I don't know how to explain but, uhm…"

Sniper and Spy raised their heads and their eyes met, for a split second, both their hearts skipped a beat. 

"I would tell you to say it in French but I'm not sure you have the vocabulary and grammar for it yet, Bushman."

The Frenchman said, smiling. But Sniper wanted to try anyway, to make an effort for the man he, well, _liked._ He scratched his sideburn on the right and closed one eye to think.

"Uh, ah, uhm, je dis Perle, uh, donner ça à Spy mais uh… Perle _refused?"_

Spy smiled. He could admit it now, he found it adorable when his friend spoke in French. His voice was very suave and his accent, delicious. 

"You would say: _J'ai dit à Perle de la donner à Spy mais elle a refusé."_

"Y-yeah, I guess that's roight."

Sniper blushed. 

"Sorry I'm so bad at French still…"

"Don't apologise, it took me years to speak English as fluently as I do today and with all that time, I still haven't managed to drop my French accent!"

"Oh, c'mon, your accent's nice, I like it."

Spy looked Sniper in the eye but the Australian blushed and diverted his gaze. 

"Yeah, well, anyway, I wanted to give it back to ya, cause, y'know, I don't need it and, well, it's yours so, eh."

"Merci Sniper."

The Frenchman smiled and, for a second, his face radiated kindness, which surprised Sniper. His lips were smiling, obviously, but his cheeks turned pink and his eyes were smiling too, and shining beautifully. Sniper's lips parted slightly, he was in awe. He found his colleague _handsome when he was happy._ He wished he could tear that mask away and see more of him, let his eyes capture all the features of the Frenchman to then store them safely in the intimacy of his memory. He would go back to that image, from time to time, and feel the same lingering flame dancing in him, yearning to…

_Stop it._

He shook his head slightly. 

"Uhm, so, yeah, here it is back, and sorry for botherin' you Spook."

Sniper stood up and was about to go, against his own heart's will. But he had come only to give that stupid Christmas ornament back and it would be weird to stay longer without any reason. So he put a hand on his heart to smother it, hoping the Frenchman wouldn't hear it drum hard and fast. He turned his back to Spy to hide his distraught face, while heading for the door.

"Attends!"

[Wait!]

In the spur of the moment, Spy spoke in French directly. Sniper stopped sharp and turned, a light of hope in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I have something for you, Bushman, come sit down, please."

How could the marksman resist the Frenchman when he asked him something with that voice and accent? Answer: he could not. 

"Oh, uh, really?"

Excellent question, the Frenchman thought. In the moment he had called the Australian back, a mad idea came to him. He knew he would regret this, but screw it all. He just wanted Sniper to stay.

"Oui."

Sniper came back to the sofa and sat down.

"I'm afraid you will hardly be surprised but it is something I worked on for you. It's not much, but it is to say thanks for taking care of me when I was ill."

Spy was talking while putting a disk on the record player. The music started and he adjusted his cashmere top and cleared his throat. He stood in front of Sniper, between him on the sofa and the fire. The Frenchman felt that anxiety of the first time on stage come back to him. The thrill of anticipation, the will to impress. He embraced the challenge, he wanted to succeed and more than anything else, he would not tolerate to fail. Non. What he was about to do, he was about to do it out of despair and fear. He just wanted Sniper to stay with him and spend yet another day with him. He didn't care that he had no valid reason for it and he couldn't care less about what the others would say or think, and by God if they stood between Sniper and him, he would kill and shred them to pieces to an extent that even respawn wouldn't be able to fix! He was simply in love, and the thought of having his loved one go simply broke his hard heart.

 _ **\-- Author's notes --**_  
  
Thanks for reading and please do let me know what you think of this one!  
  
Also, I will be away for a couple of weeks so the updates will go rare for a while, my apologies for it but I do need my summer break! ^^  
  
See y'all for 16! :D  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	16. Chapter 16

Spy was looking intensely at Sniper. He felt the pressure of the moment. He _had to_ impress. And all those emotions he had forgotten came back at him like a fresh wave of the Atlantic in winter. He could see himself on the stage of _Le Conquérant_ again, the powerful orchestra behind him, the spotlight shining brightly at him and casting the long shadow of his younger silhouette… 

He started singing. 

_[To the reader: you might want to listen to 'The Sun Died' by Tom Jones to go with this!]_

" _The sun died, the sun died with my love!_

_When you left me blue,_

_The summer died too._

_My love and the sun, it's the same._

_The sun died, the sun died with my love!_

_And I'm so alone,_

_And yet life goes on,_

_But for me there can't be no more dawn"_

Sniper's jaw had dropped. Spy was singing, his eyes closed and his whole silhouette moving slowly, in rhythm, dancing with the words he was writing in the air with the ink of his voice. He was sinking in the slow violins, bouncing off the double-bass. There was a drum roll and his eyes snapped open, shining fiercely as he opened his arms wide and sang louder, stomping his foot hard into the wooden floor.

_"Yesterday, the coldest winter was like spring!"_

He closed his eyes again as he subtly mastered his vibrato. He put a hand on his heart and extended the other in front of him, as if he was trying to reach for someone's hand.

_"I thought my heart would always sing!"_

He felt his eyes go wet and frowned harder.

_"I thought our love would never end!"_

As he said that, the thought of that woman crossed his mind but he hardly had the time to dwell on it. His heart pushed her and her story away, it had had enough of aching after what Lucien had gone through. Now was the time to wake up again and beat, fast and hard, pump the blood from everywhere in his body and wash away the bitterness, chase down the sadness and throw it away. Oui! Now was the time to love again and oh what a sweet feeling!

_"But that was yesterday."_

He finished singing and the music faded. He remained with his eyes closed and his head lowered. 

_Clap… Clap… Clap…_

Sniper applauded slowly, his mouth still wide open and Spy opened his eyes slowly. He felt the heat and the pressure exit his body. It was as if his very skin was releasing steam. Sniper watched as his dear friend blinked a couple of times, his long black eyelashes brushing the air beautifully. But then the marksman noticed…

_His eyelashes are wet…_

Spy took a handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly wiped his eyes. The Australian, seeing how uncomfortable the Frenchman looked, diverted his gaze. 

"Voilà. Now you've heard me sing, and you know why I refuse to do that in front of people."

The masked man sat on the sofa and faced the flames. He started to regret it already. His friend must have seen his tears, even though he had tried hard to hold them back. But that's what the Frenchman was at heart, a very romantic man hidden behind a thick mask of fabric and cold-bloodedness. Sniper was looking for words but as usual, he pained to find the right ones. 

"Wow, uh, ah, uhm… I mean…"

Spy thought that his friend was going to tell him how disappointed he was at his sensitivity and it was breaking him on the inside. He should never have sung for him, he felt as if he was naked in front of Sniper. The Frenchman put a hand on his face.

"I imagine you are disappointed now, Bushman. You may leave if you want. This time, I will not try and hold you back."

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. 

"Wh-whot?! You bloody kiddin' me?! Why would I leave?... It was amazin'! Bloody brilliant! I-I'm speechless…"

Spy removed his hand off his face and turned his head to look at Sniper. He expected to see irony, disgust and lie. What he read instead warmed his heart and he did not manage to hold back a smile. The marksman was genuinely impressed and he was being honest. His eyes were shining and his lips were parted slightly. Spy stared at them for a second, feeling his own tickle him. His eyes went up to his friend's. 

"Really?"

"Yeah! Have you heard yourself? I'd never have guessed you could sing like that, blimey!"

"And I'm surprised. You seem to have enjoyed it."

"Mate, you blew my mind away! You should have become a singer, not a spook!"

"Well, it used to be my job, before I chose to switch for secret services."

"How come you're not famous worldwide with a voice like that?"

"Haha! I'm flattered, Bushman, but I cut my career short I'm afraid. I've nonetheless kept a very strong link with music. I would say it is one of the few things that stayed with me for more than a year."

"Wait, it used to be your job?'

"Oui, I started in small bars and bistrots in my city of origin. I then moved to Paris to try my luck there and it worked. I used to sing for the best restaurant in all Paris, a place where famous and important people would come and enjoy dinner, on the Champs-Élysées. I'm told some of them even came on purpose, just to listen to me."

"Wow, Spook, if what you're tellin' me is true, then it's just insane!"

The Frenchman smiled and only a small part of his teeth shone.

"Believe me, Bushman. I wouldn't lie to you."

Sniper blushed. But something inside him was doubting the Frenchman's words. 

"Why?"

Spy opened wide eyes in surprise. He had not expected the Australian to ask him anything. And it did look like he was pushing it a bit, as Spy had done the previous day. The Frenchman wanted to know the reasons behind such a questioning. Lucky for him, he knew exactly how to get information out of people. 

"Why what, Headshot man?"

"Why wouldn't you lie to me? You could be inventin' it all and I wouldn't know."

"How could I invent the voice you just heard? Besides, why are you wondering about that?"

"Ah, true, you can't invent yer voice. But that doesn't answer my question."

"And it doesn't answer mine either."

Sniper couldn't admit it. He couldn't just say that he liked his friend maybe a bit too much, that he was stuck in his mind, that in his bed, late at night, he tried to feel the warmth of the embraces he had shared with him. No, he couldn't say that, so he decided to say nothing.

"Fine then. Nobody gets their answer, Spook."

The Australian turned his head to stare at the fire and didn't see Spy smirk. The Frenchman knew exactly what he was doing. He looked at the fire too and mentally counted down. 

_3… 2… 1…_

"I-I just want to uh, to know if I can trust you _really_." 

"And the answer is, _please do._ I might be terrible with friendly relationships but one thing I know is that trust is a fundamental element to them."

"Do _you_ trust me then, Spook?"

Spy look him straight in the eye as Sniper was fidgeting with his fingers.

"Of course, isn't it normal?"

The Frenchman replied with a soft yet confident voice. Sniper was confused. He didn't know if Spy meant that because of their job or if…?

"Roight, I don't really know whot that means but ok."

"It means only what it says. Don't assume I spend my time playing games with people. I only do it when I need to. And I don't need to with you."

"Again, Spook, why?"

The marksman sounded agitated. He was starting to be impatient and adamant on getting his answer, an honest one. Spy was slightly irritated. At least when he pushed his luck, he didn't insist that much!

"I have already answered."

The Australian stood up and looked down at Spy, who was still sitting on the sofa.

"Well what kind of answer is that?! I'll tell you, that's the answer of a bloody spook, makin' mysteries everywhere. You can't help it, can you? All I'm askin' is a simple question!"

Clearly, Sniper was losing his temper. It annoyed Spy equally and the Frenchman stood up to try and be at eye-level with the Australian.

"Ha! A simple question?! Well then, Bushman, answer it yourself if it's _that_ simple! Also then, if it is truly _that simple_ , let me return the favour: Sniper, do _you_ trust me?"

The Frenchman extended his arms in front of Sniper, as if to insist on the fact that the matter was between the Australian's hands, not his own.

"I'd like to, you bloody bogan, which is precisely why I'm askin'!"

"What holds you back then, _imbécile!?_ Why can't you trust me the same way I try and trust you, hm?"

Spy put his hands on his hips.

"Because you're The Spy! Bloody hell, have you forgotten about the reason why you're workin' here?! Mann Co. didn't hire you to make tea and coffee!"

Sniper raised his arms and flapped them down.

Spy's eyes shone fiercely, he gritted his teeth and was now as angry as his colleague.

"I'm glad you realised, _crétin!_ And yes _I am The Spy_ , which means that I have spent more time on this Earth distrusting people than you have actually lived! I hardly even know what it means to trust someone Bushman, I've spent decades doubting everyone around me! Have you got any idea of what it means, hm?"

Spy pointed a finger at his colleague and put in on his chest, tapping repeatedly as he grew more angry. 

"Do you know what it feels like to have people surrounding you who call themselves 'friends' or 'colleagues' and who could easily sell you for their own advantage and leave you to be tortured by a foreign army?!"

As Spy was tapping his index finger on his colleague, the taller man took a step back.

"Do you know what it means to be deployed far from home, feel like the odd one in the crowd?! Feel like everything and everyone is permanently watching your every moves, your very breaths?!"

Sniper was walking backwards more and more, under the pressure of his colleague's harsh voice and angry face.

"Bushman, do you know what it feels to see someone for months, years, you've even planned to cross everything out of your life for them and one day you wake up and you're left with only your eyes to cry?! _"_

Sniper's back hit the wall but Spy was now closing the gap and stood on the tip of his toes to really be at eye-level with him.

_"OF COURSE YOU DON'T! LUCKY YOU!"_

Sniper had opened wide eyes. He felt terrified. Seeing the Frenchman properly angry was something he now wished to no one, not even his enemies. Spy's loud voice resounded in the room and in his skull. He now realised what a nightmare it must be to be a spy. The paranoia, the pressure, the fear, the infinite loop of lies. 

Spy calmed his voice down. 

"When you're a spy, nothing is true, nothing is real, nothing lasts and everything serves a purpose. There's no such thing as innocence. But despite all that, I am trying my best to trust you, Sniper. So please, _please,_ do trust me in life as you would on the battlefield, at least."

Sniper felt deeply sorry for his friend. 

"I-I… Come 'ere."

He wrapped his arms around the Frenchman and hugged him tightly while inhaling deeply. Spy buried his head in his friend's chest and it hit him on the inside. That sudden close contact, the comfort he got from that hug in Sniper's arms, he could feel the Australian's hand on the back of his head and the other on the sback of his neck. Having hidden Spy's face in his arms, Sniper felt more comfortable to speak. The eyes of the Frenchman wouldn't stare into his soul and judge him. 

"I'm sorry Spy, I didn't mean to make you angry or anythin'. It's just that… I know it's hard to trust someone, ok? I mean because you're the one who's paid to lie, it makes it hard to trust you but-but believe me Spook, I really want to trust you, I _really_ do…"

Spy heard Sniper's voice and felt it resonate in his own chest, it made his heart beat faster. He freed himself from Sniper's embrace and looked up at him. The Australian still kept his hands on the Frenchman.

"But Sniper, I have already trusted you. I told you things that no one here knows about me, I've even shared my voice with you. If you don't find it in your heart to trust me after that, I don't know what will."

Sniper's heart woke up brutally and Spy stared at him sadly.

_Well, if I had any means to know that you like me, maybe not like I like you but… But if I could know…_

From his side, the Frenchman was starting to doubt that the marksman felt anything for him. Maybe he just liked him like a friend. But he wanted to be sure. So once more, he crossed the line. Sniper watched as Spy removed one glove, then the other, and threw them on the floor. He knew what he was going to do could ruin it all. But here he was, pressed against the man his mind was busy with, in his arms and maybe about to lose him. So that was the right moment to step it up and make it clearer to him. _Spy wouldn't cope with losing Sniper._

The Frenchman, still staring deep in the Australian's eyes, took his right hand in his and put it against his cheek, tilting his head slightly. He was screaming with his eyes and arched his eyebrows.

_Don't you understand, Bushman!?_

Sniper's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. He couldn't breathe, his body actually didn't care about breathing anymore. He could only feel his heartbeat everywhere in his body as his hand was sandwiched between the Frenchman's and his cheek. He felt the fabric of the mask and the occasional soft tingling of Spy's very short beard through it. The Australian's chest was burning. His friend had made it quite clear. 

_He wouldn't do that if he didn't like me, roight? He wouldn't look at me like that, would he? Bugger, bugger, bugger! He wouldn't have me stroke his cheek, roight? I've never stroked a friend's cheek, maybe-maybe it's a thing in France? Maybe that's how they show they're friendly?_

Spy slowly blinked and Sniper's pupils dilated like a cat in the dark. The Frenchman was waiting and expecting the Australian to react. He had made a bold move and was desperate for him to do something, anything, even if it was to push him away. He had crossed the line and was ready to face the consequences of it. Or at least, so he thought. 

Spy was looking up to his friend as the taller man did something that made his heart burst yet again. Sniper had put his other hand on the Frenchman's mask, on the other cheek. Spy dropped Sniper's hand and laid his flat on his chest. He smiled shyly, his cheeks turning pink. Sniper was still breathing in short fast bursts. He tilted his head down and rested his forehead on Spy's, closing his eyes.

"You can trust me, Sniper," The Frenchman whispered. And he heard Sniper take a deep breath and relax. 

  
_**\-- Author's notes --**_  
  
  
Thank y'all for reading and please let me know what you think!   
  
Thanks to Crows for their brilliant editing!   
  
  
Also, I'll be taking a bit of summer holiday so my updates will be slowed down I'm afraid!

See you for 17!


	17. Chapter 17

The wind was howling violently outside as the blizzard was raging. The sky was grey, the ground was grey, everything was covered in such a thick layer of snow that life had turned into a monochrome. The only nuances were due to the clouds blocking the sunlight at some places and letting it through at others. The snowfall was still very intense, as was the atmosphere in Spy's smoking room.

Here they were, Sniper and Spy, the marksman and the masked man. They were both in the Frenchman's smoking room, against the wall. Both had closed their eyes to appreciate the moment. They were head against head, breathing fast and through each other's breaths, they could hear the other's heartbeat.

Spy took a step back and, taking Sniper by the hand, he lead him back on the sofa. Both men sat down and Spy looked at Sniper seriously.

"Sniper, now I need to ask you something. And please take your time and answer me as honestly and brutally as you can." 

The Australian gulped. 

"I would like to know if… Hm… How may I say this…?"

The marksman wanted to help him find his words. 

"Say it in French, mate." 

"But you might not understand."

"I will."

" _Bien. J'aimerais savoir si tu ressens là même chose ou si tu te forces."_

Sniper frowned. 

"So you just said 'I'd like to know if you feel the same or if you force yourself.', roight?"

Spy nodded. 

"Mate, I-I… Uh, I wouldn't force m’self. I don't have the patience for that. If I… if I… ugh, why are words so hard?! What I want to say is…"

He sighed. 

"If I wanted to push you back, I would have done it long ago and I wouldn't have come back to ya."

"So?"

Spy wanted a clear answer. Sniper smiled. 

"So… I guess it-it means that… I, I hate you as much as you hate me, Spook."

He said that and tapped on his colleague's nose with his index finger. Spy pulled up his nose, smiling and Sniper's pupils widened again. He put a hand on his cheek, on the fabric of the mask. His thumbs then slid to the exposed skin, next to Spy's mouth.

"Apologies for my stinging. I did not expect you to come and thus, I didn't shave."

Sniper answered with a tender smile. 

"Can-can I…. Uhm..?"

His finger went to the edge of the mask, on Spy's cheek and he slid a fraction of his index finger underneath. 

"Is-is that ok?"

"Oui, as long as you don't remove my mask." 

"Oh, I'd never do that." 

Spy felt the long fingers of the Australian slide further underneath his mask. 

"I like your skin… You always look so… non-human… with the mask."

Spy removed Sniper's hands and took them in his. 

"I might seem so, but…"

He put Sniper's hand on his chest.

"Am I really non-human?"

The marksman felt his friend's heartbeat. 

"Nah. Nah you're not."

"I'm glad you can see this. Not a lot of people do." 

"Spy, I-I… I'm wonderin' about work. How will we… uh, y'know?"

"No one has to know, unless you want them to know. I don't mind if you tell them or if you don't. But as far as I see this, work is something and this-"

The Frenchman pointed at Sniper's heart.

"-this, is something else."

The marksman nodded. 

"Roight, makes sense…"

Silence fell as Spy leant back on Sniper, on his shoulder. The Australian curled his arm around him. 

"I must admit I am quite surprised."

"Why?"

"I did not expect you to enjoy the company of men."

"Oh, I like both, but very differently. Well, actually, I do prefer men. We're more straight-forward, we're less hard to talk to and have a good laugh with. Sheilas can be a nightmare… What about you?"

"I don't mind much. But I agree, I like one differently than the other. And I feel like it's easier to confide in a man, but that's a luxury I can't afford."

"Whot d'you mean?"

"Being a secret service agent, I can't confide in anyone really."

"You can now."

Spy looked up at Sniper and the taller man met his eyes. 

"I'm not a Spook and I'm not talkative. I know how to keep my mouth shut." 

Spy raised his head and left a quick peck on Sniper's cheek. The Australian felt himself got hot and red as a brick in an instant. 

"Merci."

The marksman smiled and bending down, he left a long kiss on the top of Spy's head. He then squeezed him closer to him. 

"It's nothin'." 

Silence fell again and the couple enjoyed each other's company. 

"Spy?"

"Hm?"

"D'you… Do you…? Uh, y'know what? I'm not gonna say anything."

"What did you want to ask?"

"I can't say it."

The Frenchman felt that the Australian was struggling so he decided against trying to look him in the eye.

"Yes you can. Just say what you think. I will not be offended or surprised, Bushman. Speak your mind."

Sniper took a deep breath. 

"Do you, erm, _like_ me a lot?"

Spy smiled. He took the Australian's hand and put it on his lips, left a quick and tender kiss. 

"Oui, a lot."

"You-you sure?"

"Oui, Sniper."

"G-good…"

The marksman was hesitant to say it. He was fighting within himself. 

_Oh and damn it all!_

"Cause I-I think about you a lot, y'know."

"I do, too. But what exactly do you think about when the thought of me crosses your mind?"

Sniper blushed and started fidgeting with his fingers. 

"I-I can't say it… It's nice things, eh, but uh…"

"Let me say what I think then."

The Frenchman freed himself from Sniper's arm and looked him in the eye. 

"When I think of you, it's only to realise that I miss you, that I would want to have you here, close to me. Those past few weeks, when I gave you advice on how to taste wine, or when I taught you some French words, I felt warm and happy in my heart. But the minute you leave and I close the door, I feel empty."

Spy lowered his head and paused. 

_"Un seul être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé."_

"Whot?"

"It's a verse from a famous poem. It means 'A single being goes missing and the whole world is empty.' And that's exactly what I felt, each time I would push and close that door."

He smiled sadly and did not notice Sniper's jaw dropping slowly.

"I would even sometimes put my ear against the door and listen to your footsteps fade away, hoping that I would hear you turn on your heels and come back." 

Spy raised his head and put his still naked hand on Sniper's cheek. He brushed it with his thumb. His eyelids slowly fell on his eyes as his long and thin fingers slid up to Sniper's sideburn. The Frenchman bent forward slowly, closing the gap between the Australian's face and his. He resumed his speech, whispering. And it seemed to Sniper that the Frenchman's words flowed on the air like a sweet and warm vapor gliding through his ear and tickling his heart. Spy's whispering resembled a snake's hisses, only this time, it was stinging the Australian's soul in a way that the man could not resist. 

"When I hear your door close, the bang of it breaks my foolish heart and I'm left alone, here. It's almost as if there is a string tying me to you and the further you are away from me, the stronger it pulls me to you, like a rubber band. And it hurts Sniper, it hurts to hear you go away, as it hurts to see you fade away. _Tu me manques, tout simplement."_

[I miss you, quite simply.]

Sniper was speechless and even if he didn't understand that last sentence, he felt it everywhere in his body. The Frenchman's whisper both calmed him but also urged him to do something foolish… Their faces were but an inch apart and Sniper's lips were parted. His eyes sank down and he closed them. The Frenchman smiled. He had noticed that his friend had a weakness for the sweet nothings whispered to him in French. Spy turned to rest his weight on his knee, on the sofa, and got closer to Sniper's ear. The Australian held his breath, his eyes still closed. 

" _Sniper, je pense à toi, tout le temps, de jour comme de nuit. Tu me manques."_

_[Sniper, I think of you all the time, all the time, day and night, I miss you.]_

The Australian exhaled loudly as he lost contact with his limbs. It felt like the only working parts of his body were his heart, his ears and his lips; _maybe something else too._ Spy had taken his breath away. 

"I-I can see now how you could get sheilas by the dozen!"

Spy smiled. 

"Ah, but it is not _a sheila_ I am after, now."

"Y-yeah, o'course, but still. You've got to teach me some day, Spook."

"What? Teach you how to go around seducing people? So that you go away from me?!"

Sniper realised that indeed, his suggestion was not the best he could come up with… 

"Oh, no, no, that's not whot I meant! Sorry, sorry Spook, I-I-"

Spy chuckled.

" _Ne t'inquiète pas,_ I know what you meant. But I'm afraid seducing is extremely personal. There are some general guidelines, of course, but I can only teach you how to get to someone if I know them."

[Don't worry]

Sniper turned his head to face the Frenchman next to him. Their faces were a couple inches apart and he looked in Spy's light blue eyes.

"Teach me how to get to you then, please."

The Australian said, half whispering, half growling. Spy could not but bite his lower lip, feeling something hot in his guts surging up in his body. His eyes went down from his friend's eyes, to his thin nose and his very thin lips. He stared at them for a split second. 

"But Bushman, you already got me."

"Really?"

"Oui. You know what I like in you?"

Sniper shook his head. 

"Everything that I don't know yet about you. I like the fact that you're not the most social or talkative. I love your silent company but then when you start using your voice, it seems to me that you're playing on the strings of my heart like a slow and mellow violin. I can hear everything wave and vibrate inside me… It is such a delight for my ears to hear you."

The Australian smiled. 

"Wow, I-I had no idea you felt all that…"

"Oh, that and much more. But I don't want to overwhelm you, Sniper."

The marksman opened wide eyes and his lips parted. The Frenchman smiled tenderly. He whispered.

"But in the end, Sniper, just know that…"

He got even closer to the Australian, putting his hands on his cheeks. 

_"Je ne te hais point."_

[I don't hate you at all.]

Spy rested his head against Sniper's. The Australian put his hands on top of the Frenchman's and pulled him out of the sofa. Both of them were standing up now. Sniper slid his hands along Spy's sides, on the cashmere top and stopped at his waist. He rested his head on the Frenchman's. Both men breathed fast and a bit loud. 

Spy was looking up and saw that his friend had his eyes closed. He smiled and, yielding to the temptation, he got his lips just a bit closer to Sniper's. They briefly brushed past. He did not put any effort to kiss him. He just wanted to ask him if he could, if he also wanted it, but without words. Of course he would understand if the taller man thought it was going too fast, or if he just did not want to. Sniper frowned and exhaled only a bit louder. Spy did not know if that was a yes or a no and so, he decided against trying anything any more. But Sniper bent down only a bit more and took Spy's upper lip between his. The Frenchman rolled his eyes up and closed them. His legs gave up but thank God Sniper was pulling him to himself strongly from his waist. 

The Australian quickly withdrew from Spy's lips. 

"I-I'm sorry mate, I don't know, I just, I thought-I wanted… I'm sorry."

He took a step back, feeling like he stole the sweetest fruit there ever was. He withdrew his hands from Spy's sides and put them quickly in his pockets. He stared down, too afraid to look the reason his heart was beating in the eye. Those ice cold eyes, those hypnotising eyes, those eyes that could read him directly, those delicate, very light blue eyes that made him feel naked each and every time he saw that they were laid on him. 

The Frenchman took a step forward and curled a hand behind Sniper's neck. He pulled him down as he pushed himself to the tip of his toes and pressed his lips ever so delicately on the taller man's. Meanwhile, with his free hand, he put Sniper's hands back on his waist. 

"Sniper…"

He put his lips on Sniper's again and pulled him to himself stronger. The Australian reciprocated and Spy felt his lover's fingers clench on his waist and pull him harder. 

They soon parted from each other's lips. 

"Wow… It… It's been such a long time; I haven't felt that."

Spy smirked. 

"The real question is: did you appreciate it?"

Sniper blushed and, being too shy to say that he just adored the moment, he nodded and smiled. 

"Good, because I did too. You're not such a bad kisser after all…"

"Oi! I'm a bit rusty, but I've never been called a bad kisser!"

"Well then, allow me to test this better, hm?"

Sniper smiled and dived in Spy's lips again. He pulled him in with his hands and his lips, hugging him not like a friend, but like a lover, making sure that Spy would feel his whole body against him. For the Frenchman a kiss might be a trivial matter but not for Sniper. Nah. Agreeing to give his lips to someone was a big deal. It was sealing into the flesh of the other that yes, he loved him. He wanted him at that moment and the world around could collapse, turn into vapor or shatter into a million smithereens, he would not care. His only concern was to tell Spy that he was not his friend anymore. He was now his lover. Sniper was admitting that Spy was the one his mind was busy with constantly, may it be actively, right before falling asleep and wishing very hard that he would see him in his dreams, or unconsciously, in the background, as he cleaned his rifles. Sniper was trying to say all those things in the twist of a lip. He wished the Frenchman understood.

And of course he did. Spy was surprised at how desperate the kiss felt. Sniper had really wanted Spy's lips. It seemed to the Frenchman that the Australian was pulling almost violently on him. Part of him loved the feeling, it showed how much Sniper had been craving it. But another part of him felt sad. Did Sniper want a kiss with Spy or was he craving a kiss with anyone? 

Obviously it was with Spy! Sniper could not believe that he was holding, between his lips and between his hands, the man that had more love conquests than Australia had species of wild animals. He was melting under the Frenchman's sweet, sweet lips. But soon Spy wanted more control. 

He slid his hands from Sniper's cheeks down to his chest. He grabbed the Australian's jumper and pulled on it.

_"Tu n'es pas le seul à avoir crevé d'envie de t'embrasser."_

_[You are not the only one who has been craving to kiss you.]_

He managed to whisper as Sniper's hands started to slide, one downwards, and the other upwards, on Spy's back. 

" _Spy…"_

Their breath accelerated and lost any kind of sync for a moment. Their hands explored, discovering each other's silhouette, the contours of the other's body. The breaths were now loud. 

" _Spy… I love you, I love you…"_

Spy's eyebrows arched up and he started pushing his lover who had no choice but to walk backwards. Step after step, first slowly and confidently, but soon the steps went faster. 

_Bang._

Sniper's back hit the door to Spy's bedroom and as the bang resounded, the Frenchman broke the kiss and everything. The touch stopped, his breath got cut sharp and short. Sniper opened his eyes and saw Spy's horrified face. He had one hand laid flat on Sniper's chest and put the other one on his own. The Australian was confused and at a total loss.

"Are-are you alroight? Did I do somethin'?"

"Non, non… Argh…" 

Spy was breathing with difficulty. 

"Sniper I-..."

"Whot? Tell me, tell me, Spy."

The Frenchman raised his eyes to the taller man. He was terrified.

" _Sniper, je t'aime."_

[Sniper, I love you.]

  
_**\-- Author's notes --**_  
  
Thanks for your patience and thanks for reading this one :D

I am still on holiday so still typing very slowly!

As always, please do let me know what you think of this one :D 

See you later :)


	18. Chapter 18

Spy found himself alone in his room again. He needed the solitude for a moment, to be able to collect himself and think. He had asked Sniper to leave right after telling him that indeed,  _ he loved him  _ and seeing the utter shock and horror on his lover's face, the Australian obliged.

One might think that such a statement had become a trifle for the womanizer that Spy was. And indeed, in his younger days, there was no easier sentence to say:  _ je t'aime, I love you, te amo, ich liebe dich.. _ . But now, everything had changed. It had been a long time since he had last said it like that. First, it had come out of him as if some invisible hand had dived into his mouth and tore the words out of his very soul, springing out again with those terrible words that the Frenchman thought he had buried deeper than he could ever get. And he had said it in French. For some odd reason, saying things in English felt completely different than in his mother tongue. In French, things were more true, more honest, and thus stronger.

Spy lit a cigarette and took a long drag off of it. He frowned. 

He had said it:  _ je t'aime. _ But not only had he said it, he also felt it, like a powerful punch on his chest. Those powerful words made his lungs collapse and his heart stop. The air was scarce, he could not breathe. The issue was not saying " _ Je t'aime" _ , the issue was hearing himself say it. Also, the way his body reacted was more than enough for him to understand. He did not just want Sniper to be with him, or spend a night with him. He did not just want Sniper's body, non. And thinking about it, it almost disgusted him. Not Sniper's body, but the thought of him just wanting that. 

_ Bleh. _

Spy stuck his tongue out and exhaled some of his cigarette smoke. Non. He did not just want that other man for ridiculous and sudden physical satisfaction. He  _ loved _ the man. 

The Frenchman stood up and started walking back and forth in his smoking room. Having a short and insignificant love story, that was fine, he was used to it. Having a one night story too. Having a companion, just to release some physical tension, he had done that as well. 

But with Sniper, it was different. Something was different. Spy himself felt different. But what did he feel exactly? What did he want? 

He finished his second cigarette and lit the third, pulling on his mask to remove it. His hair was disorganised but he did not care. 

What did he want? Argh… 

Spy sighed and kept on walking back and forth. Perle laid in her basket and followed her master with her eyes. 

He did not know what he wanted. He just… He wanted Sniper. Yes, but what in Sniper? Argh! He wanted to know him. He wanted to unravel and unlock all the secrets that the very silent Australian man had. Why? Was it only professional curiosity? Non, of course not and if it was, it would be solved very easily. On the day that Spy got hired by Mann Co., he knew he would be working in a team and he also knew that Medic would have a copy of everyone's files. It was only child's play for him to sneak in and get those documents. 

Spy walked to a drawer and opened. Here they were, the documents. Of course he had made a copy and returned the original ones to Medic. The Frenchman was far from interested in anyone's dental records or place of origin. He flicked through the different pages and found Sniper's file. The Frenchman took it in his hand. It was a brown file with the Mann Co. logo at the top. It read "The Sniper" in bold, red letters. With one hand, Spy closed the drawer and went to sit on the sofa. He put the cigarette between his lips and was about to open the file when…

"Meow."

Perle put her paw on the file, as if she was preventing him from opening it. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?"

[What's the matter?]

"Meow."

"Je veux regarder ce dossier."

[I want to have a look at this file.]

Perle hissed and raised her hair everywhere. Her tail pointed straight up and she arched her back. 

"Pourquoi tu t'énerves?"

[Why are you getting angry?]

_ Lucien… _

He read in her eyes something that was not pure anger. It was a warning. She was asking him to think again before opening it. Spy removed his hand from the file and mussed his hair. 

"Si je ne regarde pas son dossier, comment diable saurais-je si c'est simplement de la curiosité professionnelle ou…?"

[If I don't look at his file, how the hell would I know if it's mere professional curiosity or…?]

_ Ou quoi? _

_ [Or what?] _

Spy lowered his head. He wanted to be certain that his will to know Sniper was or not driven by his countless years of experience as a spy. He looked at Perle as she sat and calmed down. 

_ Tous les deux, nous savons que ce n'est absolument pas de la curiosité professionnelle.  _

[ _ Both of us know that it is absolutely not professional curiosity.] _

Once again, Perle was right. He put the file aside and looked at her. 

"Qu'est-ce que je suis censé faire alors?"

[What am I supposed to do then?]

_ Parle-moi et dis-moi ce que tu penses.  _

[ _ Talk to me and tell me what you feel.] _

Spy sighed and a long cloud of smoke flew out of his parted lips. He put his fingers on his temples to ease the headache that he felt was creeping up on him.

_ Que voudrais-tu lui dire? _

_ [What would you like to tell him?] _

Spy took a deep breath. 

"I would like to know what is happening, to me. What I felt when I said I loved you, I rarely felt before. In fact, the last time I said I love you like that was when-"

He gasped and put a hand on his heart. 

"Je suis ridicule. On ne se connaît que depuis quelques semaines et je tombe amoureux comme une gamine…"

[I am ridiculous. We have known eachother only for a couple of weeks and I fall in love like a little girl.]

He sighed and looked at Perle. 

"Je ne sais pas ce que j'ai."

[I don't know what's wrong with me.]

_ Parce que tu n'as rien. Tu l'aimes mais tu te prends trop la tête. Et pourquoi? Parce que tu n'arrives pas à t'enlever complètement cette femme de la tête. Lucien, accepte tes sentiments et arrête d'avoir peur. _

_ [Because nothing is wrong with you. You love him but you over analyse everything. And why is that? Because you can't completely remove that woman out of your mind. Lucien, accept those feelings and stop being afraid.] _

"Mais Perle, la dernière fois que j'ai réellement aimé quelqu'un, ça s'est tellement mal fini…!"

[But Perle, last time I really loved someone, it all ended up so terribly bad…!]

Spy dropped himself on the sofa and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. 

"Et pourtant, je l'aime. Je l'aime et je ne m'imagine pas passer un jour sans lui. Même là, il me manque."

[And yet, I love him. I love him and I cannot possibly imagine spending a day without him. Even right now, I'm missing him."

_ \-- Sniper's room -- _

"Bugger…"

Sniper had laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He put a hand on the bridge of his finger and rubbed his eyes from under his tinted glasses.

"I hope I didn't do anythin' wrong… Maybe what he meant when he asked me if I forced myself was that in fact  _ he  _ was forcin' himself… Oh shite…"

He facepalmed as he realised that maybe  _ he  _ was the one pressuring Spy too much. 

"Nah, it can't be like that, roight? He-he was the one to kiss me, or was it the other way around?" 

Sniper sat up on the bed and Hootsy perched himself on his shoulder. The Australian let his hand sink on his face.

"Hoo?"

"I think I messed up, Hootsy. I messed up,  _ big time _ . He was tryin' to tell me that-uh?"

_ Scritch, scritch… _

Sniper raised an eyebrow. He recognised that sound and what confirmed his suspicion was Hootsy flying to the door knob.

"Hoo, hoo!"

"Roight, roight."

The Australian went to the door and opened. 

"Meow!"

Perle stood on her back legs and put her front paws up on the Australian's leg. 

"Come in, Pearl."

She obeyed and he closed the door. Sniper sat on his bed and the lady cat jumped on his lap. 

"Why did you come to me?"

"Meow."

"He asked me to leave, I'm not goin' back there."

"Meow!"

"Nah, did you see the look on his face after we-"

He sighed. 

"Well, I guess I just saw what I wanted to see. It-it's fine, I'll get over it."

Perle jumped down and bit Sniper's trousers, next to his ankle. 

"Nah, I said I won't follow you this time. He doesn't want to see me." 

She released the grip on his trousers and went to the door, scratching it again to get out. Sniper stood up and opened it. He felt overwhelmed by a feeling of defeat and frustration. He thought he was the one with complicated emotions but it turns out that the Frenchman was something else. 

_ Bang. _

He closed the door again and sat on his chair, the wrong way around, to look through the window. There was nothing to see and everything was deadly dull. His eyes went from the ground up to the sky.  _ Grey-grey-grey-dark grey. _ Dull and in shades of gray, like the inside of his heart.

_ \-- Spy's smoking room -- _

The Frenchman had not moved from his sofa. He was still laying there, like a dead fish drying on the shore.

"Meow."

He straightened his head. Perle was on his lap.

"Quoi?"

[What?]

She did not answer because she knew that the stare would be enough.

"Hoo?"

Spy raised an eyebrow.

_ Tik-tik-tik-tik. _

The sound of Hootsy's claws on the wooden floor startled him. 

"Mais qu'est-ce que tu fais là toi?"

[What the hell are you doing here?]

The owl jumped on Spy's lap, next to Perle. 

"Hoo-hooo."

"Mon Dieu, je ne parle pas le hibou, je ne sais pas ce que tu veux."

[My God, I don't speak owl, I don't know what you want.]

The Frenchman looked at Perle with question marks in his eyes. 

_ Va et parle-lui.  _

_ [Go and talk to him.] _

He sighed. 

"Alors c'est ça? Vous êtes venus me chercher pour que j'aille le voir?"

[So that's it? You came to me so that I go to see him?]

Spy crushed his hundredth cigarette butt on the ashtray next to him. 

"Bien."

[Well.]

Perle and Hootsy left his lap and the Frenchman stood up. He grabbed his mask and put it on. He looked around him for a second and saw the gloves on the floor and the file on the sofa. Spy collected them all, put the file away in the drawer and slid his hands in his gloves. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror and arranged his top and hid the front white tuft that was escaping from the mask.

The Frenchman then opened the door and exited his suite with Hootsy firmly perched on his shoulder. 

_ \-- Sniper's room -- _

_ Scritch, scritch, scritch. _

Sniper sighed. He got off his chair. 

"Pearl, I can't always come and open up to ya."

He put his hand on the door knob, twisted it and…

"You've gotta go back to Sp-oh…"

There he was,  _ the Spook. _

"Hello again Sniper. May I...please?"

The Australian nodded and let his friend in, closing the door behind him. Spy stood up until Sniper motioned him to take a seat.

"Merci."

Sniper sat on his bed and Spy, on the chair. They were facing each other.

"You, uhm, your eyes. They're very red. You alroight?"

"I have smoked a couple cigarettes."

Well, to be nearer the truth, he had committed a genocide in his cigarette case… 

"I am truly sorry for my behaviour earlier and I apologise sincerely. I might have scared you or given you the wrong impression."

Sniper shrugged. 

"Do you accept my apologies?"

"I don't know, Spook. I don't understand you. One minute you kiss me and the next one you ask me to leave. Was it me? Did I somehow forced you to do it and you didn't want to?"

Spy opened wide, surprised eyes. 

"Non, non, non! Absolutely not!"

"Then what?"

Spy sighed. 

"The problem was not you, never. It was me. I realised that saying what I said to you was, well, overwhelmingly strong, for lack of a better way of putting it."

"But, wait, I'm a bit confused, did you really mean it?"

Spy stood up and got the chair closer to the edge of the bed. He sat down again, elegantly, as he always did. 

"Sniper, I-"

"Yes or no? Spook, quit yer fancy talk and gimme a simple answer. Because I-I… I need to know and be sure."

Spy looked his lover in the eye and saw how hard Sniper wished that the answer was yes. Or rather, he saw how much the Australian dreaded a "no". His eyes were zig-zagging from Spy's right eye to the left one repeatedly and fast.

"What is your question?"

The Frenchman asked calmly.

"Do you… D'you… Uh, you know what I want to ask!"

"Indeed I do but for the sake of clarity, say it. So that we are both sure. I will be sure of what you ask and will provide an answer that will be as blunt as the question."

Sniper turned red as a brick and he started shaking. He was very nervous and his shyness was not helping. The Australian put a hand on his forehead as he felt the sweat break there. He was breathing fast and short and he felt hot. How would he manage to say it? He couldn't! It was too… Direct, too personal, too intimate! He wished he could be a tiny, tiny insect in the room.

Spy removed one of his gloves and put a hand on Sniper's. He felt the trembling running through his lover's body. Sniper closed his eyes and raised his head up. 

"Do you… love… me?"

He opened his eyes again but lowered his head. Sniper was sweating heavily now. 

"Oui."

There was no hesitation, no split second to think. The Australian gasped silently and his head shot up to look at Spy. The latter was smiling tenderly. 

"R-really?"

"Oui, Sniper,  _ je-je…" _

It was hard to say but if Sniper managed to ask, then Spy had to answer. 

_ "Je t'aime." _

And it seemed to Spy that he had come back to being Lucien, the young, charming, handsome man. The womanizer, the smooth talker, the man who needed only the snap of his fingers for the ladies to bend and fall like dark red roses under the night’s summer breeze. He felt  _ young _ again, but not just any kind of young. The Frenchman saw himself there , in Boston, that fatal night. He had said it exactly the same way, hesitantly, the blush in his cheeks blurring the vision of the pretty face he was declaring his love to. And back then, he remembered that it had felt like the start of a new life, one that he could finally lead as a decent man. He had started from the bottom and there he was, he was suddenly understanding all those men who had said to him "when you meet the right one, you'll understand.". He had thought he had been through all that and it would happen only once, but there he was again. 

However, a voice within him was silently whispering, from somewhere deep behind his ear, at the back of his mind. There was fear at the bottom of his soul. Would it end the same? Would he be taken to the highest highs only to fall deeper that he could think possible?  _ Again? _

_ Non. Hors de question.  _

[No. It's out of the question.]

Sniper slid his fingers through the Frenchman's, who of course reciprocated. It was most beautiful in its innocence. Two professional killers now lovers, holding hands, their fingers intertwined as much as they wanted their destinies to be. The pressure from Sniper's fingers broke Spy's train of thought. 

"Spook, you-you bein' serious?"

"Am I in the habit of joking?"

Sniper was smiling one of those earnest, almost naive smiles.

"Oh bugger… I-I can't believe it… How? Why? You and-and me?"

"Because you're someone I can only dream of having at my side."

Sniper's smile faded.

"Whot?"

"You are honest, true to yourself, you play no game with people. Innocent, you are innocent. And…"

Spy smiled. 

"You have a particular kind of charm, absolutely exquisite in my opinion."

Sniper blushed and lowered his head to hide his tomato red face.

"Oh, wow, I-I don't think I do… If anything, you're the handsome bloke!"

"Oh, you flatter me too much!"

They both exchanged a laugh and their cheeks turned pink. 

"No, no I'm not! I'm sure that underneath that mask, you've got a face that could kill by just looking at it."

Spy blushed slightly. 

"Good thing I wear a mask then, hm?"

"Come on, admit it! I'm sure that under there, you just look gorgeous!"

"Well, I cannot deny Nature has been most kind with me."

The Frenchman could not hold back a proud smirk and deep down, Sniper wished he would see it someday, that face. It had made countless ladies and men fall so it was eager to see its beauty. But of course, like any other marvel of nature, one had to be patient before enjoying it. 

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"I got scared of the words I said to you because, well, I am ashamed to say they escaped me."

"Why would you be  _ ashamed?" _

"My trade is to keep secrets and I can't even lie on something so… Uhm… Argh, merde! How do you say that in English…?"

The Frenchman was looking very hard for that word. 

"Whatever the word you're lookin' for, I'm bloody glad you let those words escape." 

"Quite right."

There was a moment of silence where Sniper took Spy's other hand and put his fingers at the edge of the glove, around the Frenchman's wrist. He held his fingers there for a second. 

"Can-can I?"

"Oui, you may."

Sniper smiled and remove the other glove.

"Your hands."

"What about them?"

Sniper ran his fingers everywhere on Spy's naked hand.

"They're very… soft… They're almost like a woman's…"

"I'm glad someone notices! I use a hand cream that works wonders. It's a product that I order and have imported from India. It smells of vanilla."

Sniper put Spy's hand under his nose and took in a bit of the air that floated on his lover's hand. 

"Hmm… You're roight, it smells amazin'!"

"I can lend it to you and you can try it if you want."

Sniper had closed his eyes and put his lips on the Frenchman's hand. 

"Spy?"

"Oui?"

"I love you."

Spy got taken aback and it took him a second to digest the words and get his body back in a state where he could answer. 

" _ Moi aussi." _

[Me too.]

He leapt forward from his chair and put his lips on Sniper's for a long and passionate kiss. It meant a lot, that kiss. Spy felt he was doing more than just touching Sniper's lips. Non, it felt  _ different… _ The Australian realised that indeed his lover had burnt entire fields of tobacco and not only  _ "a couple cigarettes" _ as he pretended. But he didn't care. As it turned out, the marksman had now also become addicted to Spy's cigarettes,  _ not for the nicotine though. _

The Frenchman soon felt Sniper's hand on his cheek and shoulder, pulling him. He let the Australian lead him to sit next to him on the bed. Their hands touched, gliding on fabric and skin smoothly to make sure that the other one was really there. It was not a dream, not a fantasy, it was  _ real _ and it was happening.

They finished with Sniper's hand stroking Spy's back while Spy was clinging on his jumper, on the Australian's chest. They broke the kiss and looked at each other with heavy eyelids, eyes half closed and almost crossing their eyes. 

Spy then put his head on Sniper's shoulder and the Australian wrapped his arms around him. 

"It's rather cold in your room, Sniper."

"Yeah, the sun is almost finishin' to set and I don't have a fire here… Wait, I got an idea."

The marksman put his hands on the base of his jumper and yanked it, pulling it upwards to remove it. Spy's pupils widened as now Sniper was in a red, long-sleeved polo shirt. The Australian then put his jumper on Spy's shoulders.

"But you? Aren't you cold?"

"Well, not after what we just did…"

Sniper blushed slightly. 

"I might get cold a bit later."

"How do you manage to sleep here, I imagine it gets freezing during the night!"

The Australian nodded.

"Yeah, it's not very warm… I-I must admit that thinkin' of you helps…"

"Oh, I see."

Spy saw an opportunity to make his lover blush so much he would lose his tongue. How could he resist it? 

"So you think of me in your bed at night, hm?"

"Oh, uh, I mean, heh, uh-"

"And it helps you stay warm?"

Spy was smirking and, being against Sniper, he heard his heart panic.

"I see, Bushman, I see…"

"It-it's not whot you think, I-I mean, uh, I don't uh-"

Spy smiled and moved away from his lover's arms to look him in the eye. The taller man trying his best to smile back but his embarrassment was just too strong. 

"Sniper?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I'm glad you do think of me in your bed at night."

Sniper nervously cleared his throat and gulped. 

"Do you know why?"

The marksman shook his head and looked down to meet Spy's eyes. The Frenchman got closer to his ears and whispered. 

" _ Because I do think of you when I'm alone too." _

Sniper closed his eyes and frowned, he could only blush  _ that much! _ But then his eyes snapped open when he felt something touch his neck under his ear. He understood it was the Frenchman's lips and rolled up his eyes, sighing almost silently, his shoulders melting. Spy noticed how great an effect it had on his lover and made a mental note of it. It made him smile and decided to explore further. 

He let his lips travel through the Australian's neck, from under his ear down. He pulled the collar of his polo shirt down to expose more of the skin on his lover's shoulder and kissed it gently, only pressing his lips repeatedly while taking it the faint scent of Sniper's cheap cologne. The marksman did not know how to react and in any case, his lover was just too good at that game. Besides, the warmth that was springing from his own body was too strong to coldly dismiss. There was but one way to react… 

Spy moved back to his lover's mouth and took his upper lip between his. Sniper reciprocated the kiss and put his hand on the Frenchman's cheek, on the soft fabric of his mask.

"Attends."

[Wait.]

Sniper stopped at once and looked at his lover, curious as to why he asked him to stop. Spy silently pointed at Perle and Hootsy. The owl was nested in the cat's fur and both were watching the two lovers from Sniper's desk. 

"Perle… Tu ne m'aides pas là…"

[Perle, you are not helping…]

"Meow."

"Hootsy, you're putting us off mate…"

"Hoo."

Spy and Sniper looked at each other with a smile.

"Come with me, Sniper." 

The Frenchman got off the bed, holding Sniper by the hand and went to the door. 

"Perle, tu restes ici avec Hootsy et vous restez sage."

[Perle, you stay here with Hootsy and you two behave.]

"Hootsy…!"

Spy stuck his ear to the door. 

"No one, let's go." 

They quickly slipped out of Sniper's room and went to Spy's suite.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

As always, thank you very much for reading and thank you, Deathtothecrows for your hard work editing this! :D

I hope you enjoyed this one! :D

Please let me know what you thought, it helps greatly :D

See you around for 19!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	19. Chapter 19

Spy closed the door to his suite and felt the Australian's hands shyly hover around his waist. He quickly glanced down to confirm his suspicions and yes indeed, Sniper was too timid to hold his lover. 

"Sniper?"

Sniper's eyes shot from his hands around Spy's sides to his eyes. 

"You may hold me if you want. Don't be so shy."

"I-I just don't know how to, uhm, y'know, it's so hard to know what you think…"

Spy pulled Sniper's hands onto his hips. 

"Look at me and listen carefully."

Sniper focused and frowned his eyebrows. 

"I think it is clear now that, as you had said,  _ I hate you as much as you hate me _ . So from now on, please, feel as free as a bird with me."

Sniper's eyes opened wide. 

"Well, uh, fine, uhm…"

In the blink of his eyes, he got an idea. 

"On one condition, Spy."

"Oui?"

"You do the same with me. No lies, no games, no tricks." 

Spy smiled and took Sniper's hands in his. 

"D'accord, I agree. I shall speak my mind freely with you and be honest. And you?"

"I'll be more… uhm… less shy."

"Bien." 

Spy pushed himself to the tip of his toes and kissed Sniper, a quick peck on his cheek. But the Sniper wanted more and after what the Frenchman told him, he felt more confident. He put his hands back on his lover's hips and bent down to kiss his cheek. He then trailed down to his neck but the turtleneck top was in the way. With trembling fingers, he pulled it down and let his lips do the job on the fabric of the Frenchman's mask. He wanted to dive under Spy's top and out of eagerness, he realised that he had pushed the Frenchman so that his back was against his front door. Spy sighed and breathed faster. He arched his back and tilted his head slightly, unravelling his thin neck, asking for more. The Frenchman was delighted that his lover was so keen. 

Their breaths accelerated, broke out of sync, as their fingers touched, pulled and grabbed. Both had an interest in being as discreet as possible. They were against the door after all and if Sniper could hear Spy singing through it, then they could be heard  _ singing another kind of song _ . 

Sniper came back to Spy's lips and kissed passionately when Spy stopped all of a sudden again and his eyes snapped open. Sniper froze and was about to speak when Spy quickly put his hand on his mouth and his index finger on his own lips. They both held their breath.

Then Sniper heard it. Footsteps. Slow and regular in their frequency. 

Spy looked up at Sniper's eyes and moved his lips silently. 

_ Engineer. _

But on top of that, excited footsteps, very fast and in sync with squeaking sounds. Again, the marksman read on his lover's lips. 

_ Pyro. _

The sound soon faded away and Spy removed his hand from Sniper's mouth. 

"Pardon, Sniper. I had to, I'm sorry."

"Nah, nah, you did roight."

"We should not stay here."

Sniper nodded. 

"But… I don't know if we want to uhm… How shall I put it…?"

The marksman smiled. He liked it when the Frenchman looked for words in English. 

"Say it in French."

"Right,  _ je ne sais pas si tu te sens prêt, ou même si moi je me sens prêt pour ça. Peut-être tout cela va-t-il trop vite…?" _

"Oh, wow, you spoke too fast and I didn't understand, uhm, can you translate?"

"I don't know if you feel ready or if even I feel ready for that matter."

"Ready fer what?"

Spy made an embarrassed face. 

"Maybe we are going too fast. What I mean is I don't want to rush you. And I don't want to rush myself."

Sniper felt that Spy was hitting some sensitive spot. 

"Look at me luv'."

Spy gasped and looked up. Sniper had just called him  _ 'luv'', _ and he said, with his low, growl-like voice:

"I am ready, if you are. But if it's too soon or if it's too much, I-I understand." 

"Tell me."

"Yeah?"

"I told you what I thought of you. But you never said what you thought of me." 

"Roight, yeah…"

Sniper cleared his throat.

"Can we uhm… sit down maybe?"

"But of course."

Both took a seat, on the sofa.

"Roight, uhm, heh…"

Sniper took a deep breath. He would make an effort to not stutter ridiculously. He had to. And he had to be as honest as it would take. He knew it would be difficult. 

"Spy, I have to say that I'm sorry if I stammer."

"It is of no importance."

"Good. So uhm, yeah, whot I feel about ya. Well, you must know it already so I guess it's borin' but, you're charmin'. You're bloody charmin'. You're the man everyone would dream of havin', like a… like a movie star! One of those blokes that are so perfect that they only exist in books and movies…"

Sniper sighed and for the first time, he removed his yellow-tinted glasses in front of his lover and put them away. Spy realised that his lover's eyes were actually deep blue, he thought they were more turquoise but he was misled by the yellow colour of the glasses! Oh it seemed to him that his lover had an even more handsome face. It was a rough one, tanned by years under the Australian sun which had forced some lines to form on his skin, making him look older than he really was. And his sideburns? Completely out of any kind of fashion but Spy absolutely adored them. There was something that the Frenchman secretly loved in the touch of his lover's sideburns. The soft tickling of his fingers under the brown short thick hairs… Also, the Frenchman would never have thought he could actually fall for a man who had absolutely no idea and no concern about any kind of elegance. But there he was, drinking the words out of the very lips of the man with the ridiculous sideburns.

"I've come to understand that behind the cold attitude, you're one hell of a romantic bloke and… Well, I guess I'm another one… I like that in you, but you never show it much. When you sang I saw it, I saw how strong you felt the music and the lyrics. Actually now that I think about it again, it's weird…"

Sniper frowned. 

"What?"

"You didn't sing in French. I had thought you'd sing in French, but you didn't."

Spy smiled and arched his eyebrows. 

"Ah, indeed I could have sung in French, or in a number of other languages. But I think you can understand why I chose to sing in English, non?"

Sniper looked confused, his eyes went from left to right, thinking hard. 

"Nah, I don't know."

"It's because I sang for you, to you. I wanted you to understand the lyrics because I tried to hint at my feelings for you." 

Sniper's eyes went wide again. 

"Oh… But you sang 'The Sun died', doesn't that mean kind of the opposite?"

"You misunderstood me, I was singing it like a funeral oration for that slice of my life that has been poisoning me for so long."

"Whot d'you mean?"

"I was burying whatever was left of that story with that woman, you know, the one that I talked to you about."

"Can I ask, when was the last time you saw her?"

Sniper was not ready for the answer. 

"Twenty-seven years."

The Australian choked on his own saliva and coughed a couple of times. 

"Whot?!"

"Oui, I know."

"Wait, wait, wait. You're tellin' me that it's been 30-odd years of you feeling broken inside?!"

Spy lowered his head. 

"Oui, I'm sorry."

Sniper put a hand in front of his mouth to contain his shock. 

"That's practically all my life!"

"And practically all mine as well, or most of it anyway."

"Wow, Spy…"

"And you're the first one I am talking about it to. Apart from Perle of course."

Sniper put his hand on his forehead. 

"How did you not go mad or some'in'?!"

"Oh but I did. Reckless, restless and ruthless. A paid assassin, hopping from country to country, killing those whose names were on a piece of paper that I had to burn immediately after reading it. I drowned my rage and sorrow in the blood that I shed everywhere I went. I specialised in impossible assassinations."

"Spy?"

Sniper interrupted his lover. 

"Oui?"

"Why are you telling me all this? Why me? Why open up at all?"

"Ah, that is another reason why I fell for you. You don't say much but you're quick in the head."

The Frenchman sighed. 

"I am telling you all this because I am tired. I retired from my position with the French government. I no longer am what defines me most, the number 1 spy in France."

"Whot?! You never said that you resigned!"

"Ah but I did."

"Why?!"

"I am not getting younger, Sniper. I thought I needed to retire."

"But you ended up in Mann Co.?"

"For the same reason as you. You're the best sniper that is not otherwise engaged in other missions and I'm the best spy in the same situation. Having broken my contract with my previous employer, I was technically unemployed. And so Miss Pauling approached me and proposed the job."

"Did you accept roight away?"

"Non. At first I refused. The pay is very high indeed but I have always been working in solo. I hate having to rely on other people."

"What made you change yer mind then?"

"I'm sure you can guess."

"Spy, we said no tricks or anythin', just tell me."

"Who is the only person who can push me to do something?"

Sniper looked around him, thinking deeply when he saw the Christmas tree with the ornaments-  _ the ornaments! _

"Pearl?!"

Spy nodded and smiled. 

"God bless that kitty…!"

"God bless her indeed. Until very recently, she was the only reason why I managed to keep my head on my shoulders, as we say in French."

"Oh."

"If I went mad and yielded to that voice at the back of my head, screaming to get my revenge at life, I would have gone on a killing spree. I thought about it. Going around killing anyone who did as much as look at me the wrong way."

Sniper's jaw dropped. 

"And I could get away with it, who would have been capable of catching me? No one!"

Spy sighed.

"But who would take care of Perle? She's an exceptional companion and she deserves the best care that I can afford and provide. I did not rescue her from the streets to abandon her like that. Non, she does not deserve such unfair treatment. So my mind was set, the only thing I could do was retire and stay in my flat, waiting for the time to pass, looking at the clock's face and stare as the hour and minutes hands spin."

He paused for a second. 

"All that for what? Nothing. I was simply waiting for my time to come."

"Oh my God…"

Spy looked up and saw his lover with big red eyes, filled with tears. 

"Come 'ere."

Sniper curled his arms around Spy and squeezed him tightly. 

"Don't ever, ever think like that, d'you hear me?"

"Snip-"

"Shut up! You listen now, you mongrel. Had it not been for yer cat, I would never have met you and you wouldn't be here with me!"

Sniper put his hands on Spy's face and the Frenchman realised how much his lover cared about him.

"I love you, d'you hear me?"

Spy did not expect it but the Australian wrapped his arms around his neck and forced him into a very tight hug. 

"Snip-oof!"

Sniper was practically strangling Spy at this point. 

"Shut up! Shut! Up! You absolute piker! You bloody idiot! Don't ever, ever think about those nasty thoughts again, you hear me?! And if you do, please, please, please talk to me about it. Don't let yourself rot like that ever again, ok?!"

Spy managed to free himself and get some air. 

"I-I will, Sniper."

"Do you promise?"

"Oui." 

"Good… Cause I love you and I… Ahem… I-I need you… I… Can I be brutally honest?"

"But of course."

This time, it was Spy's turn to be taken aback. Sniper closed his eyes and frowned. He could not bear to see the Frenchman's reaction as he said:

"You wanna know what I feel for you eh? There we go: I love you too much. I think of you all the bloody time and since you first kissed me, I realised that I always want to feel your lips on mine. You're a bloody good kisser and I've never felt the way you make me feel, ever before. You're soft, delicate, you respect the fact that I'm shy and you don't take advantage of me despite the fact that you're absurdly irresistible, you could make me happy or sad or whatever you want in just the snap of yer fingers. And despite all that, you just chose to treat me as an equal. As if I was as gorgeous as you, as if I could make anyone fall like a fly with the clap of my hands, as if I was like… you."

Spy's jaw dropped. He never expected that Sniper thought that highly of him. 

"Mon amour, tu me laisses sans voix."

Sniper opened his eyes but still couldn't look his lover in the eye.

"I mean, my love, I am speechless."

Hearing "my love" brought a smile to Sniper's lips. Spy took his hand and stroked it. He looked lost in thought. The Australian looked up at him and seeing his lover like that, he thought he said something wrong. 

"You alroight?"

Spy snapped back to reality. 

"Ou-oui. Sorry, I was just taking in what you just said."

Spy moved closer to Sniper and snuggled up against him. The marksman put his arm around him and pulled him closer, leaning his head on his lover's. 

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Sniper blushed.

"Me too."

"Merci."

"It's nothin'."

The fire was crackling in front of them both and they could feel its distant warmth. Sniper looked through the thin windows but couldn't see a thing. The snow had piled up against them and was blocking the view. He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and realised it was starting to get quite late in the night but the wind was still howling outside. 

"Frightful weather we're havin' eh?"

"Indeed. Thank God we don't have to work. Although I guess for Heavy it wouldn't be much trouble."

"Oh, yeah I s'ppose so. Bein' Russian, this is what Christmas at home feels like."

"Speaking of, what does it usually look like for you?"

"Whot?"

"Christmas, it's in a couple of days now and I don't know how we intend to spend it."

"We?"

"Well, I would love to spend my first proper Christmas with company, but if you don't want to be said company, I can find someone else…!"

Spy played smug and smirked defiantly.

"Oi! Slow down mate! I didn't say that cause I don't want it!"

"Oh, so you  _ do _ want it. So now, mon amour, pray answer my question, hm?"

"Oh you little devil…!"

Sniper shoved Spy playfully. 

"Ouch!"

"Oh come on! You made of paper?!"

"Non, mon chéri, it's your touch, it makes me weak and melt."

[My darling]

"Oh, shut up already!"

Sniper took Spy in his arms and put his lips on him to make him stop talking. 

"But-hm!"

Spy smiled and indeed melted under his lover's kiss. It was soft and gentle, exactly like the Frenchman saw his lover.  _ Soft and gentle.  _

Well, Spy was wrong, but he did not know it yet. 

  
_**\-- Author's notes --**_  
  
Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of this one!  
  
See you later!  
  



	20. Chapter 20

"Do you mind if I put some music on?" 

"Nah, go ahead."

Spy went to the record player and put a disc on. 

"Whot did you put?"

"Some French classics. Let me know if it's not to your taste, I will put something else."

The music started playing and Sniper smirked.

"Well, I think it's quite clear now, I quite like  _ French classics." _

Spy raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Oh,  _ do you?" _

The Frenchman went to a cupboard. He put two wine glasses in front of him and uncorked a bottle. He poured the dark red liquid in the two glasses and came back to his lover, handing him one of them.

"Yeah, yeah I think I do. Y'know, the kind that's uhm,  _ fancy." _

They both took a sip of the wine.

"Are we still talking about music here, Monsieur?"

"Oh, that's fer you to guess, mate. Also, that's another kind of wine, a new one I mean."

"Ah, indeed! What do you think of it?"

"It smells almost like… Hm, like it doesn't have any alcohol… I-I can't really tell what it tastes like… The only thing that comes to my mind is a-uh, it's ridiculous, forget about it…"

"Non, mon amour, tell me, please."

Sniper sighed. 

"You're gonna laugh at me."

"Have I ever done that?"

"No, it's true."

"So go ahead."

"Roight, I was goin' to say it tastes like a winter night in front of a fireplace. It's hard outside but then you leave it longer on your tongue and it's warm and soft again, almost too sweet for a wine."

"Oh…"

"See? Bloody ridiculous…"

"Non, non, non! It's perfect! I chose this bottle because that's exactly what I think of it!"

"Really?!"

"Oui! It's a Côtes du Rhône. But this particular one is special, I know the Maître de Château there personally. Let's just say he owes me."

"Oh, wow. Look at you, knowin' people everywhere in France. That's whot I said,  _ fancy! _ "

Both smiled at each other and Spy leant against Sniper. The Frenchman was softly humming along the music, his head raising up and falling down in the rhythm of Sniper's breath.

"Spy?"

"Hm?"

"I like your smile."

The Frenchman's eyebrows jumped in surprised. Unlike himself, who was cold and would think before doing anything, Sniper had the spontaneity of a young kitten.

"Oh."

"I've never seen you smile like you do now. I mean, at work, I sometimes see you smirkin' like a devil, right before backstabbin' someone, or sappin' a gun. But never that sweet smile o'yours."

"Wouldn't it be strange if I went around smiling at the BLU team like I smile at you?"

"Ah, yeah, yeah alroight. But still."

"Merci, mon amour."

[Thanks, my love.]

Spy raised his head and left a quick peck in Sniper's neck and the taller man melted. 

"Hm… I can't believe that a man who looks so cold at first is really that soft…"

"Don't judge a book by its first page."

Sniper chuckled.

"What?"

"It's 'by its cover', not 'by its first page'." 

"C'est la même chose!"

[It's the same thing!]

Spy crossed his arms and pouted.

"Oh, I'm sorry, luv', I didn't mean to offend you."

Sniper curled his arm around Spy's shoulders.

"Expressions are difficult in English, but you're gettin' there."

Sniper left a kiss on his lover's head, on the fabric of his mask and the Frenchman relaxed. He liked the fact that the Australian was taller than him. He could curl up in his arms and feel safe there. It made him forget everything that he did not like about himself, and only bring out the best. He would forget that his whole life, the Frenchman survived and lived off of his dreams, fantasies and lies.

The music switched to another style, but still the same artist. Spy put his empty glass away and hummed in rhythm.

_ "Padam, padam, padam…!" _

Sniper smiled when the Frenchman freed himself from his embrace and stood up in front of him. He stood elegantly was elegantly standing, an arm curled behind his back and the other one extended towards the Australian. 

" _ M'accorderez-vous cette danse? _ "

"Uh?"

Spy smiled. 

"Would you kindly accept to dance with me?"

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. 

"Uh, mate, uhm, I'm not, I'm not good at this, but you-you dance and have yer fun, ok?"

Spy smiled. 

"But it is a waltz, Sniper. I need a partner to dance."

"Oh, uh, really? Ah, well, uhm…"

Spy understood in the blush of his lover and the way he was wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers, that in fact he did not know how to dance. 

"I will show you, it is very easy."

Sniper put a hand behind his neck.

"I-I'm not good at this, mate, I'll just hold you back."

"Non, you won't."

Spy moved his hand. 

"S'il te plaît?"

[Please?]

Sniper could not resist the high-pitched voice and the beautiful grey eyes. He put his hand in Spy's and stood up. 

"Merci. Now, put a hand here, on my side… Voilà, the other one in mine, très bien…"

Sniper let Spy give him instructions and tried to follow them as best as he could.

"Straighten your back a bit…? Good, now look at me and let yourself be guided by me. Are you ready?"

"Y-yeah, I guess?"

"Now, listen to the music… Un, deux, trois! Un, deux, trois!"

[One, two, three! One, two, three!]

Spy started moving his feet and his lover tried to follow him. He looked down to try and look at the Frenchman's feet, to move accordingly. 

"Look up! You should be able to feel where I'm going next with your hands."

"How?"

"The pressure of my hand in yours and when I move on the side, you should feel it with your other hand."

"I can't feel anything…"

Sniper stopped moving and looked defeated. It broke Spy's heart. He could not resist that distraught look. When he saw it, something pure and violent surged inside him to make it change back into a beautiful smile. 

"Mon amour?"

[My love?]

"Hm?"

"Regarde-moi."

[Look at me.]

Sniper was still looking at his feet. He felt as if he had let his lover down. He wanted to make an effort and make his beloved Frenchman happy but he was too clumsy to dance.

"Look at me, please."

The Australian finally raised his eyes. 

"What's wrong?"

"I'm terrible at this."

"Non, you are not. It's all new to you, give yourself some time and training and you will swing on your feet without even realising it. And even if you're bad at this, you're still adorable for trying."

Spy quickly pushed himself to the tip of his toes and left a peck on Sniper's cheek. 

"Nah, the problem is not me bein' bad."

"What is the matter then?"

"I wish I could dance with you, y'know, to make you happy."

Spy sank deep into his thoughts for an instant and he got an idea. 

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"Give me your hand again."

"Spook…"

Spy took Sniper's hand. 

"Now, your other hand, on my side."

"Spy…"

The Australian obeyed but with a sigh. 

"Now, trust me for this."

The Frenchman raised himself on the tip of his toes and grabbed Sniper's lips in his. The Australian was taken aback and had to bend down to not let go, and under his lover's masterful kiss, he closed his eyes. Spy opened one eye and saw that his lover had his eyes closed. 

_ Très bien, now you will dance better. _

_ [Very well] _

And indeed, Sniper paid more attention to the music because his eyes were shut, and he felt Spy's moves better. The Frenchman danced with his lips locked on his lover's for a while and when he thought that Sniper could try without that extra help, he broke the kiss. Spy watched as Sniper still maintained his eyes shut and followed him much better. 

_ Ah, he got it now! _

Eventually the music faded and Sniper slowly opened his eyes as the record player switched to the next track. Spy was smiling and his lover felt privileged. How many times had he dreamt of one day opening his eyes and seeing a handsome man, lovingly smiling at him? He lost count, and above all, he lost his breath. 

_ By God, he's gorgeous… _

Spy was about to say something when he heard a knock at the door. 

"Hm, quite late. I wonder who it is."

Spy went to check and opened the door. 

"Howdy pardner? Sorry to bother you that late."

"Oh, bonsoir Engineer."

[Good evening.]

The short man was carrying a cardboard box in his arms and he had a couple of other ones on the ground, next to his feet.

"We got an airdrop from Mann Co."

"At this hour of the night?"

"Yeah, I suppose they took opportunity of the wind calmin' down. It was scheduled for 2 days ago but that blizzard killed the roads and even the airways."

"Ah."

"It's mainly supplies and a couple of deliveries. This one had your name on it so I reckoned I'll give it to you right now, before I forget. I saw the light under the door and thought you were still awake."

"Merci, Engineer. Indeed I am still up."

Spy took the box from his colleague's arms. 

"Uhm, listen 'ere, would Sniper be with ya?"

"Indeed, he is." 

"Can I give you a box that's for him and you pass it on?"

"But of course."

"Thanks."

Engie had a look at the different boxes at his feet and found the right one. 

"Ah, that's the one. There ya go! Thanks pardner!"

"Merci, Engie, good night."

"Night to ya  _ two _ !"

Spy wondered if Engie meant "two" or "too" but he shook his head and threw the question out of his mind. It did not matter much. He entered back and slammed the door shut with his foot. 

"I've got a box for you, Sniper."

"A delivery? This late?"

"Indeed, I was surprised too but apparently the weather allowed for an airdrop. Here, this one is for you, and this one is mine."

"Yours is much bigger than mine!"

Spy raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

_ "And you are surprised…?" _

Sniper looked at his lover's smug face and frowned. He did not catch on the innuendo right away but when he did, he turned as red as a brick and felt hot.

"Oh, shut up! I was talking about the box!"

" _ Call it as you please!" _

Spy winked and Sniper rolled his eyes up with a smile. Both men sat on the sofa and the Australian opened his box. The music in the background was lovely and along with the fire, both men felt very much  _ at home. _

"Oh good Lord! It's from my parents! Oh, look, that's a jumper. My mum knitted it for me…. She does that for each Christmas."

"Ah, I see… Try it on!"

"Roight."

Sniper put it on and doing so, his hair fell on his face. While he adjusted the sweater around his waist, Spy delicately brushed his lover's hair back with his fingers.

"Cheers love."

"My pleasure. Your hair is very soft."

Sniper smiled. 

"Well that's cause of the hair conditioner, I buy it and have it imported  _ from the bloody moon!" _

He laughed and Spy immediately understood that he was making fun of the way the Frenchman had described his hand cream. 

"Oh, do you now?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's a rare and expensive thing, eh!"

" _ Quite fancy _ I'd say, Monsieur."

"Very fancy, but you know, that's how I like my stuff…."

The Australian then whispered.

_ "...and my men." _

They shared a knowing smile and Sniper stood up. 

"So, what d'you think?" 

The sweater was too big for Sniper but Spy found it adorable. Either the Australian used to be twice his width when he left Australia, or his mother saw him much bigger than he is! It was red with white dots everywhere. 

"Very Christmas-y, if that makes sense."

"Ah, yeah, the colours you mean? Yeah, well, that's whot I'd be wearin' if I were with my old folks. And uhm, does it fit me well?"

Sniper turned around and again.

"Well, I would say it fits us perfectly."

"Us?!"

"Oui, look how large it is! We could get the two of us inside!"

Sniper laughed heartily. 

"Hahaha! Mate, that's a great idea! Come 'ere!"

_ La spontanéité d'un chaton,  _ the Frenchman thought. 

[The spontaneity of a kitten.]

"Ah non! Sniper!"

"Ah  _ oui! Spy!" _

Sniper started chasing his lover who ran around the sofa. 

"Wait till I get my hand on ya! I swear I'll put you inside this jumper with me!" 

"Non!"

They turned a couple of times around the sofa, laughing and playing mind games to try and anticipate which direction the chase would go. But Sniper, with his long legs, cheated the game and leapt above the sofa and caught the Frenchman in his arms.

"Ha! Gotcha!"

"Mon Dieu! You cheated!"

"Whot?! Where the hell is it written that I can't jump over the sofa?! I've got bloody long legs, let them be of some use for once!"

" _ Oh I'm sure they'll find their use…" _

Spy whispered and this time, Sniper understood what he meant and blushed. 

"Oi, I got what you meant!"

"Hehehe!"

"In any case, I've got ya now. You're wearin' this with me!"

"Is there anything I can do or say to prevent this?"

"As you'd say:  _ non!" _

Spy sighed. 

"D'accord, d'accord. Let's wear this together then…"

[Alright, alright]

Sniper raised the jumper and Spy slid in it, from underneath. His head popped out of the neck. 

"Oh, hello there!"

"It seems you have a stowaway in your sweater, Monsieur."

"It does seem so."

Spy tried to slide his arms along his lover, in the sleeves.

"I can't put my arms though-"

"Too much muscle!"

"You're too fat, Bushman!"

"Oi! I'm not fat! It's the sleeves, they're too thin!"

"Ah, oui,  _ it's the sleeves' fault!" _

Sniper nodded. 

"Yeah, o'course it is!"

They both laughed. 

"I guess I have no choice but…"

Spy hugged Sniper and leant his head on his lover's chest, closing his eyes. He heard his heartbeat and it made him smile without him even realising it. He felt Sniper's arms close around him tighter. 

"Spy?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Teachin' me how to dance. It's always been scary to me. I've always wanted to learn it cause, well, y'know, it's uh… It's nice, roight?"

"I would say one thing about the way you learn new things."

"Oh?"

"You, Monsieur, are afraid of your own feelings. You never let yourself completely go at first and it takes a bit of effort to get you there. But once you trust yourself well enough and you really get into the thing, you're an incredibly fast learner."

Sniper was speechless and a moment of silence passed before Spy broke it.

"Bushman?"

"Uh-oh, yeah, yeah I guess you're roight."

"Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Uhm, no, not that I can think of. But there's a lot of truth in whot you said."

"Ah."

"How are you so good at that?"

"At what?"

"Knowing how I work, in my head?"

Spy chuckled against his lover's chest. 

"I have been a teacher for some years. It got me into knowing how children and teenagers work. Then, I learned how to apply this knowledge to adults."

"You?! A teacher?"

"Why the surprise? Most of the time we've been spending together, I have been teaching you things: French, wine tasting and now dancing!"

"I'm just… I can't imagine you with children roamin' around."

"Well, if a teacher is defined by the fact that he spends his days with children, then Mann Co. hired me as a kindergarten one!"

"Oi! I'm no kid!"

"Yes, you are, especially compared to me."

Spy sighed and Sniper felt something was wrong in the slight sadness in the Frenchman's voice. 

"You alroight?"

"Hm, oui."

"That's weird."

"Quoi?"

[What?]

"You've lied terribly bad, love."

Spy's eyes snapped wide and his pupils retracted instantly. That was new and very much so! Last time he had been told he lied very badly was when- 

_ Oh mon Dieu. _

If Spy had any doubts about the strength of his feelings for Sniper, they vanished in that instant. The last time he failed to hide the truth was when he argued with that woman. And that dated back to twenty-seven years. 

Suddenly, the Frenchman got filled with a strange heat. He broke the hug with his lover and escaped from the jumper. He walked away from Sniper, took his empty glass and poured more wine. He downed the liquid and with a bang, he put the glass back on the counter. The Frenchman put his hands flat on it and let his head hang down from his neck. He was breathing heavily and heard his heartbeat like Napoléon's army drums during battle in his temples. Sniper understood that a very sensitive spot has been hit. But he did not know how to react, should he say something? Should he do something? Or maybe Spy needed some space…? 

"Spook…? What's wrong?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Not with you."

Sniper got closer to him and Spy was still giving his back to him. 

"It's cause you didn't lie well? It's fine, I'm a terrible liar m'self."

Spy shook his head. 

"Tell me, then."

Sniper let the silence fall for a while, to give his lover time to think and collect his thoughts. But the Frenchman remained mute. The taller man removed his jumper and stayed in his red long-sleeved polo shirt. He adjusted his hair with his hand quickly. 

"Look, I-I want to help, ok? I don't know whot I can do but-but tell me and I'll do it, whatever it is."

The Frenchman raised his head. 

"Can you rewind time?"

Sniper thought he misheard his lover. 

"Whot?"

"Can you rewind time?"

Spy repeated with a defeated voice but the Frenchman was not ready for Sniper's answer. The Australian wrapped his arms around him, from behind and, bending his head down slightly, he rested it on his lover's shoulder. 

"Fer you? I will."

Spy was taken aback, but out of the force of habit, he did not show his surprise. Sniper continued. 

"I don't know why you want to go back in time but I can imagine. You told me that you spent 30 years doin' nothing much, letting yourself move from day to day, from one mission to the next… Do you think you… erm… wasted that time?"

Spy nodded silently. 

"Don't you have some family? Some friends? People you can talk to when you feel low? I can leave you alone and you call them on the phone, talk to them and you'll feel better after."

The Frenchman shook his head. 

"Really? Nobody?"

Sniper saw that the Frenchman clenched his fingers on the counter. 

"Spook, of course you have someone, you have me."

The taller man hugged him tighter. 

"I know we barely know each other but… Eh, I-I… I don't know, I want to help you."

Sniper slid his hand on Spy's chest, on his heart, and clenched it gently there, massaging slowly. 

"Spy, I-I rarely fall for someone. I spend my time alone and I've seen more animals than people in my life. But you, you-you're special to me, ok?"

Spy continued to listen, his eyes screwed shut. 

"You didn't waste your life, you became the best spy France has seen. You became friends with the bloody Minister of Defense! That's not normal! Also, despite everything, you continued to wake up, day after day, and do what you needed to do. You continued to take care of Pearl and you continued to take care of yerself. Besides, in the end, you met me, a poor Aussie bloke. And I? Remember that day when I shot those Pyros fer you?"

Spy nodded. 

"I-I guess I can say it now, it won't sound too weird… But that moment, I swore inside of me that none of those freaks would lay a finger on ya. And if they did, I was ready to jump out of my nest and get them m'self."

Sniper couldn't see it but Spy smiled, albeit sadly.

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?"

The Frenchman removed his hands from the counter and put them on top of his lover's, sliding his fingers between Sniper's. 

"Merci."

Spy squeezed his fingers and Sniper got his head closer to the Frenchman's, resting his cheek against the mask, on Spy's ear. The Australian rocked him gently right and left and the Frenchman melted in his lover's arms. The taller man whispered in his lover's ear. 

"Thank  _ you. _ I don't know why but I can't help always thinkin' about you and wanting you with me."

"Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ignore."

"Oh?"

"It's a saying:  _ the heart has its reasons that reason itself does not know of." _

Sniper smiled and left a quick kiss on Spy's cheek, from behind, and feeling that the Frenchman softened, the Australian moved his hands, still brushing Spy's chest. The masked man closed his eyes and tilted his head, exposing more of his neck to his lover who understood his demand, and met it. Spy rolled his eyes up and closed them. He felt Sniper's curious digits explore his chest and stomach and could not hold himself back any longer. The Frenchman raised his arm and put his hand on Sniper's head, losing his fingers in his lover's soft hair. 

Both men thanked God that they were on a forced holiday. 

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this one :D

Let me know in the comments if you did please :D ! Comments are my fuel!! 

Big thanks to Crows for editing this :)

See y'all for 21 :)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	21. Chapter 21

It was late in the evening and thus, pitch dark outside. The wind woke up again, a distant yet powerful surrounding roar that wrapped the whole of the RED base. The snow fell again, whirling under the powerful winds of the blizzard. 

Inside the base, the mercenaries spent their evening as they usually did. Scout, Demo and Soldier were playing a game of cards in the living room. The bottles of beer and scrumpy piling up more as the night progressed. Engie and Pyro were spending their time in the Texan's garage, the mute fire enthusiast helping the patient engineer with his work. Medic and Heavy were still in the German doctor's quarters, the big Russian man was surely playing the mad scientist's guinea pig again…

But in Spy's suite, Edith Piaf was singing  _ La Vie En Rose _ through the record player and indeed, both the marksman and the masked man were beginning to think that life had turned pink for them. 

Spy turned to face Sniper.

"Merci."

"Fer what?"

"For seeing me differently than most people."

The Australian smiled. He was glad he could turn his lover's dark mood into a more positive one. The Frenchman put his hands on the taller man's hips as the latter put his on Spy's cheeks. As he did so, the Frenchman smiled and closed his eyes. 

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

Spy opened his eyes. 

"Love ya."

The Frenchman smiled as he felt his lover stroke his cheeks, on the naked skin, with his thumbs. 

"I love you too, Bushman."

"Don't you think it's weird?"

"What?"

"We've been knowin' each other for what…? A couple o'months? A bit more? And here we are."

"Un vrai coup de foudre."

"You know I'm still far from fluent in French, roight?"

"Pardon, sometimes I forget. It means true love at first sight."

"I s'ppose that's whot it is."

Spy put his arms around Sniper's neck and looked at his lover's eyes. The marksman slid his hands down to Spy's hips. The longer the Frenchman stared, the more pink the Australian's cheeks turned.

"You-you alroight?"

Spy's pupils widened and his eyelids slowly moved down but stopped halfway through, and his eyes did not shut completely.

"I just love your eyes. It's such a shame you hide them behind your glasses."

Sniper smiled his eyes zigzagging from left to right,. feeling slightly embarrassed. 

"Oh, uhm, thanks, luv', uhm, the glasses used to be my dad's. He gave them to me a long time ago and I-I kept them." 

"Oh, is he still…?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, he's still alive and kickin'! Oh, you'd like him I'm sure. He's a great bloke. Owns a farm and takes care of it with mum."

"I'm sure I would get along with him. But wait, does he know that you prefer men?"

"Heh… Not exactly… Uhm, it's uh, it's complicated. I think he guessed it. But uhm… Let's-let's talk about some'in' else."

"Bien. Enough about the parents, I'm in love with the son. Tell me more about him."

Sniper didn't catch the drift immediately. 

"About who?"

"About you, Bushman."

"Oh, well, what do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Sniper's pupils dilated and his ears got hot. 

"But one thing in particular."

"Ah?"

"What does he like?"

"Well, for starters, I'm told he likes what he sees right now in front of him."

"Oh, does he?"

"Mh-hm."

"I am interested, tell me more."

"Ah, uhm… He likes these…"

Sniper put his hands on Spy's cheeks and brushed his thumbs over the Frenchman's eyelids. 

"And this…"

He touched his nose with the tip of his index finger and Spy smiled. 

"And also these…"

Sniper brushed the Frenchman's lips with his index.

"They're perfect… And by God you know how to use them!"

The Frenchman's lips parted and he playfully bit Sniper's finger. 

"Oi! You wild frog! What are you gonna do? Eat me?"

The second he finished saying it, Sniper turned as red as a brick. Spy noticed it and, because he was biting his lover's index, he could not talk back. Instead, he wiggled his eyebrows. Letting go of his lover's finger, he whispered. 

"Don't tempt me."

Sniper blushed even more. He was fighting very hard to maintain eye contact with his lover after what he’d just said. He thought in his head:

_ "But what if I do?" _

Spy's eyes snapped wide and Sniper smacked his hand in front of his own mouth. He had just said it out loud! He breathed heavily and took a step back from his lover. 

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it out loud! I thought I was just thinkin' and argh! I-I'm sorry mate, I-I'll go away and see ya later, ok, I-"

Sniper spun on his heels and was about to go hide in room when Spy grasped his hand powerfully. 

"Sniper?"

The Australian, with his back to his lover, screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He was sweating under the heat of the embarrassment.

"Do you want me to answer your question?"

The marksman froze. 

_ Bugger, bugger, bugger… Why do I always have to do some'in' bloody stupid like that…? Why the hell do these things always happen to me?! _

Spy turned around and went in front of Sniper who could only hear the footsteps. He knew the Frenchman was in front of him and he knew he was staring at him with his hypnotic grey eyes. 

"Sniper?" 

With his eyes still shut, the Australian was thinking very hard. He was torn apart. Part of him desperately hoped the Frenchman would leave him alone. But on the other hand…

"Y-yeah?"

"Do you want me to answer your question?"

Sniper slowly opened his eyes, one and then the other. 

"Im-imagine I say yes. Then, whot?"

"I said 'Don't tempt me' and you said 'But what if I do?'. That is the wrong question to ask, Bushman."

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"Of course you tempt me. You have always been. Non, that is the wrong question. The right one is,  _ do I?" _

"Oh…"

Sniper admired his lover once again. Where he got those tricks when he speaks, he had no idea. But damn, that man was witty! Sniper took Spy's other hand in his. 

"S'ppose I say yes, then whot?"

"In that case…"

Spy took the step that separated him from his lover forward and pulling himself up, he kissed him. Sniper thought it was rather romantic of the Frenchman. But he soon realised that it was not what one might call a  _ cute kiss _ . Nah. That one was strong. Spy's hand raced up to Sniper's face and pulled him down, to be at his height. The Australian obliged and he felt like his whole body was twisting left and right, waving under the Frenchman's lips. Without realising it, Sniper had wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him to himself. It was ridiculous but he wanted to feel the whole of Spy against himself. And oh God, what a sweet feeling. The Frenchman's hands slid to Sniper's collar and he kissed his neck. Sniper exhaled a bit louder and that significant sigh did not go lost on Spy's ears. When the Frenchman's lips touched the surface of his neck, Sniper clenched his fingers on Spy's back. The latter was fiddling with the collar of the polo shirt and slowly slid to the buttons. He wanted to undo them. But something was holding him back. He knew that if he took that step forward, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling. It would be a point of no return. 

The Frenchman broke the kiss and looked up at his lover who opened his eyes slowly. Sniper realised from Spy's face that something was wrong.

"You alroight?"

"Ah, oui, oui… Let's just say you tempt me too much for my own good."

Spy smiled. He was still fiddling with the buttons on Sniper's collar. The Australian put his hand on the Frenchman's and pushed it away. It confused the latter but he soon relaxed when he saw Sniper's fingers twisting the first button himself to open it. With a light _ pop _ , it yielded and with it, the last barrier between romance and passion. Spy's pupils dilated again and he looked up at his lover. Sniper silently nodded and it became clear that both of them wanted the same thing. The Australian took Spy's hand and put it back on his shirt, on the second button. The Frenchman bit his lip and slowly undid it. Sniper smiled and bent down to take Spy by his lips again. 

And it got more passionate as now, a decision had been made. Spy undid the third and last button on his lover's polo shirt as he felt him pull his cashmere top up just enough to slide his fingers underneath it, on the Frenchman's skin. He shivered and exhaled louder under the touch of his lover's cold fingers. 

"Sniper…." 

Spy was purring like a cat and the Australian smiled. The French accent was very strong in that single word. With the last button open, Spy saw Sniper's chest hair and he suddenly felt it. The urge to touch it and lose his fingers there. So he did and he too had cold fingers so that when they met with the Australian's skin, the taller man screwed his eyes shut and gulped down quite loud. Spy heard it and smiled. He kissed him with more passion, his breaths growing louder and he pushed the taller man to walk backwards again until… 

_ Bang. _

Both men opened their eyes and broke the passionate embrace when they heard Sniper's back hitting Spy's bedroom door. They looked each other in the eye, mentally trying to see how much the other one wanted to go further. The Frenchman slid a hand around and behind his lover's back. He grasped the cold metallic door knob and twisted his wrist, his eyes still locked on Sniper's. 

_ Cling. _

The door was now open, Spy did his half of the job. It was an invitation, an offer, that he was making with the click of the latch. That meant that he was ready to take that risky leap. But would Sniper accept? All he had to do was to push the door with his back. That's all that Spy was hoping for. Well, a more correct word would be  _ begging.  _ Deep inside, the Frenchman was praying, heart and soul, hoping he would see that picture now. Sniper looking down at him, his cheeks pink, his lips slightly swollen and wet, his shirt open at the top and in the background, his own bed. Oh it would be perfect, exactly like in a dream that he did not even dare having, because he respected his lover too much! Imagining Sniper in situations that he would not like simply made Spy gag in his head. Non. He wanted his lover to feel it too. That madness on the spur of the moment, that craving to take one's hand and jump from a high cliff, without checking if the sea would catch them in its warm and clear blue arms, or if sharp black rocks were waiting to impale them and pierce through their hearts bluntly at the bottom. Now was a decisive moment for them and they both knew it. 

Upon hearing the click of his lover opening the door, Sniper broke a sweat. His whole body felt hot, too hot. He could see it in his peripheral vision, his collar was shaking under his violent heartbeat. Ah, his heart! It was hurting under the tear that the Frenchman had created. The right half was drawing Sniper towards Spy's bedroom. It wanted to yield. It wanted to push that door, sweep the Frenchman off his feet, put him on the bed and spend a night so hot that it would turn the blizzard into the Sahara desert. But the left half was holding him back, pushing him towards the front door. It was yelling at him to run and escape. There was absolutely no way this could end well. The masked man could be lying, he could! He could have seduced him to meet some kind of objective. The spy was a very cold man and would always think about plans and strategies to lie, manipulate and deceive. Why would it be different with his feelings for Sniper? 

_ Bugger! _

Sniper was torn apart and his breath had long stopped. Seeing that the Australian had not moved in quite a while, Spy lowered his head and turned on his heels. He understood it and would respect his lover's decision. It was too soon, fair enough. The Frenchman took the first step towards his sofa when he felt a hand firmly grasping his and pulling it so strongly that Spy had to spin around. 

After that, everything happened almost too fast for the secret agent to process. In an instant, he was lying, his back on the bed, his bedroom door shut and Sniper at his side. 

_ Je dois rêver, ce n'est pas vrai! _

_ [I must be dreaming, none of this can be true!] _

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?"

"Merci."

"What for?"

"For trusting me." 

"I don't."

Spy sat up in a flash and switched the lamp on the night table on.

"Quoi?!"

[What?!]

"Spy, I  _ love _ you, it's stronger, it-it goes way beyond trust."

The Frenchman melted under those words. Who would have thought that he would manage to find someone who knew he was paid to lie but could nevertheless trust him? No one, not even himself. 

Spy laid next to Sniper, using his arm as a pillow and resting a hand on his chest. The taller man was lying on his back and looking down at the Frenchman. Under the shy yellow glimmer of the lamp, wrapped in the dark blue night, Spy's eyes shone beautifully. Sniper could see his long black eyelashes, drawing spiky shadows on his irises. 

"Spy?"

"Oui?"

"You look bloody gorgeous."

"Merci…"

The Frenchman caressed Sniper's chest. 

"...So do you."

Spy turned and, towering over the Australian, he dived into his mouth. Sniper put a hand behind Spy's head and another on his back. The Frenchman planted his right knee between his lover's legs and thought that now, he could do it. It was something he had wanted to do for a long time but he knew that for non-French people, it was not usual to do it too soon in the relationship. 

He added the  _ French  _ to the kiss. 

To his surprise and delight, the Australian welcomed Spy's tongue warmly, with his own one. 

_ Don't moan, don't moan, don't moan. _

Sniper thought it was abnormal enough to find himself in the bed of the top French secret agent, he did not want to make it weirder. But as always, the Frenchman forced the honesty out of him masterfully. His play was too strong, too good and Sniper couldn't resist it. 

"Hmm… Spy…"

He yielded. The taller man, a fully grown adult, master of his mind and his decisions, a professional hunter and killer had just let a long and deep moan escape. It encouraged the Frenchman who got braver. He knew that Sniper liked kisses in his neck, but what about…?

"Oh… Lord…"

The Australian arched his back up and clenched his fingers on the fabric of his lover's mask as Spy lapped at his neck and down to his chest. They were both hot, way too hot and Sniper appreciated the trail of Spy's wet tongue. The waves of air that the Frenchman was creating with his movement to access all of his lover's neck and upper chest cooled him down. But despite that, he wanted to get his shirt away and so he did. 

"Wait… Spy…" 

He pulled his shirt up and threw it in the darkness, as far as he could. Spy smirked and his lover only saw part of his teeth shining in the dark. The Frenchman removed his red cashmere top and elegantly dropped it on the floor. Sniper smiled and pushed him to lie on his back. It was his turn to spoil Spy. He returned the French kiss and the masked man felt the lack of experience in the movement of the tongue. Sniper clearly showed his lack of confidence and shyness, but despite the clumsiness, the Frenchman loved the attention. The Australian moved down to play with his lover's chest. And indeed, his age was showing there. On top of the scars here and there, his chest hair was mainly black but part of it was grey. Sniper didn't mind. On the contrary, he was glad to have someone older than him. It felt like he could be safe under his wing, somehow. 

Spy slid his fingers in Sniper's hair as the Australian was trailing down, lapping at the Frenchman's skin. But he did not want him to go too fast and wanted to get things in his control again. Spy therefore turned and pulled his lover up. Their legs mingled and intertwined like two ivy plants who after years of covering separate walls, finally met. And it was a beautiful thing. One was visibly older than the other, most of its leaves were green still but the stems at its base were much wider than the other one's. That other one was wilder, yet it was not as invasive as one would assume ivy is. At their meeting point, one would notice that the branches were slim and green, still very young and flexible. But they used eachother as a support on which to grow. Who knew how they would evolve? Bah, no one! But Mother Nature has a funny and mysterious way of doing her job. One could only wait and see. 

Wait and see. That was exactly what Spy  _ refused _ to do. Non. He towered over Sniper and sat on his pelvis. 

"Sniper?"

The Australian put his hands on Spy's sides, on his naked skin.

"Yeah?"

"You still have doubts about me, don't you?"

"What?"

"I can understand if somewhere, at the back of your head, you still think that I am playing a game and my feelings for you are not sincere."

Sniper frowned and kept on listening. 

"I cannot go further with you if I know that you don't trust me."

"I already said, luv', I don't just trust-"

"I know what you said."

Spy interrupted and put his index finger on the Australian's lips.

"What I am interested in is not what you say, but what you think."

There was a moment of silence. 

"You must think I am utterly ridiculous."

"N-nah, why do you say that?"

"I am stopping in the middle of… Well… In the middle of this to ask you if you trust me."

Sniper smiled. 

"It's not funny or ridiculous. It's actually adorable of you. I imagine you don't usually do that. When you get a man or a woman to sleep with ya, you just uhm…  _ get to work and do the thing?" _

"Oui, I don't usually ask for trust or permission."

"So why do you do it with me?"

Spy lowered his head and ran his fingers on his lovers chest. It was covered in scars too. But those were not caused by bullets or knives. Non, they were left by animals' claws.

"Because you're different."

"How?"

"I…"

Spy wanted to say it but he felt like he was revealing too much of himself. And he had learnt to stop and not cross that threshold. 

_ Et merde! _

[ _ Damn it all!] _

He didn't need to do any of that with Sniper. Of course not! They were teammates and as of recently, lovers. He could open up to him. 

"I really do love you. I am not pretending for a mission or to pass the time. I…"

The Frenchman sighed. He took Sniper's hand and guided them to his belt. The Australian raised a curious eyebrow, to which Spy replied with a nod of the head. Sniper undid the belt and he understood. 

" _ Je te veux vraiment… _ And I guess you know what  _ that _ means."

Sniper's eyes were locked on what Spy's belt and trousers had been hiding for a long while. The Australian had no idea he had that strong an effect on his lover. He knew the translation of that sentence in English. It meant 'I really want you.' The Australian sat up and Spy moved away from him. He pushed Spy's trousers down and the Frenchman let him get rid of them and then, he helped his lover out of his. They both sat on the bed, facing each other. 

"There is something I need to show you, Sniper."

"Oh, well, you've already showed me a good deal of yerself."

Spy got closer to his lover and pushed him to sit with his back against the wall. The Australian let his lover lead him. The Frenchman then pushed Sniper's legs open to sit between them. He put his hands on the Australian's cheeks and he rested his forehead against his lover's. 

"Sniper…?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I need you to promise me something."

"Yeah, what?"

"Don't ever tell anyone I did this."

The Frenchman let go of his lover's face and took his lover's hands in his. He guided them up his chest and finally at the base of his neck, around the fabric of his mask. He then looked at Sniper and nodded.

"Spy… you sure about this?"

"I've told you about my life, told you about everything or nearly so, about me. And still you have doubts about me. The last thing I can do for you to understand that you can trust me is to show you who I am."

Spy paused for an instant. 

"My face cannot lie."

"But-but I don't want you to do something you will regret or some'in' like that."

The Australian removed his hands. Spy took them again and put them back on the edge of the mask.

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"Je t'aime, d'accord? And being in the situation we are, it feels wrong to proceed without being equals. From now on, if we are alone, I will not wear my mask." 

[I love you, ok?]

Sniper's heart was beating hard and fast. He was going to see it! That face that bewitched so many people before him like a mermaid with sailors. 

"Do it mon amour."

[Do it my love.]

Sniper grasped the cloth in his fingers and started pulling it up. Spy's eyes were locked on his as his hands passed his neck and arrived at the level of his ears. The Australian realised that his lover had a thin jawline. He continued pulling up revealing the slim, hooked nose of the Frenchman, and stopped when he arrived under the eyes.

Sniper looked at those eyes which were riveted on his own. Oh he found them gorgeous! He took a second to take their magic in, and he finished to pull the balaclava up, in one go. 

Spy's hair fell on his forehead and sides beautifully as he lowered his head to help Sniper remove the mask. 

"Oh…"

On each side of the parting line he had at the front, they were a poetic mix of black, grey and even white. The front was snow white, as were the temples and the rest was salt and pepper. Never in the eyes of Sniper had the grey colour been so beautiful. Before, it had seemed to him that it was dull and quite sad, not very lively. Now it looked like the sheen of a million diamonds or the scorching ashes emanating a sweet and dangerously attractive heat. 

Spy raised his head again as Sniper put the cloth away. He smiled at his lover. 

"Wow…"

"I hope you're not too disappointed?"

"You jokin'...? You're… you're…"

"I am…?"

Seeing the Australian's wide eyes and his look of mild shock, Spy started to doubt that he himself even knew what he looked like anymore!

"I don't know whot you are, luv'! You're somethin' else!"

"Is that a compliment?"

"O'course! I just don't know what the right word it, if it even exists!" 

Sniper put his rough and callous hands on his lover's cheeks and slid them up to lose them in Spy's hair. 

"I apologise for the long hair, I really need a haircut."

"Oh no you don't!"

Sniper pulled Spy's face to his and kissed him violently.

"Sn-hm!"

_ Ah, ça y est! _

_ [Ah! That's it!] _

The Frenchman felt it in the way Sniper was kissing him. It was not a question anymore, it was an order. The Australian was demanding more and Spy gladly obliged. He wanted their first night to be something to be remembered, for the both of them. He pulled the taller man to lie down and went on top of him. Their chest were touching and they could hear eachother's moans loud in their ears, as with their breaths. 

"Spy… I-I…"

"Sssh… Relax..."

Spy felt it, they were both in the same state. Their minds, as well as their bodies, were very much ready. The Frenchman sank to the taller man's neck, his hands fiddling with his lover's chest and stomach. Sniper arched his back up and Spy felt that the Aussie was indeed craving for more, and quite a bit faster too. It made him smile. In all honesty, seeing the man he had been wanting for so long asking him for more in that wordless, primitive way made the Frenchman lose his mind. He moved further down and sat between the Australian's legs. If the marksman liked to work in so-called "nests", this was Spy's favourite. The Frenchman took the elastic band at the top of his lover's underwear between his teeth and pulled it down, making sure to smirk a vicious smile and never break eye contact with Sniper. 

"Oh my… Hm… Spy…!"

What the Frenchman unravelled under that last layer of cloth enthralled him. It also explained how demanding and urging the Australian had been. Spy took a minute for his eyes to take everything in. He felt like he was back in Paris, in the dark blue sky of the City of Lights, on the Champs de Mars. The lawn there was usually well kept despite the atrocious amount of tourists treading everywhere, disrespecting that vast field of grass. But the Frenchman found himself to be very lucky. That hot night of December, the area was empty and the grass was tall. He liked walking in it barefoot, feeling the tickle of the million green and fresh straws bending under his feet. Spy looked up and saw that famous tower that stood proudly, shining light on the entire capital of romance. 

_ Ah, la Tour Eiffel. _

It was very young for a historical monument, and Spy was sure it would live to see towers much taller than itself rising from the ground everywhere in the world. But he did not care about any of them. Only  _ that particular one  _ counted. It was a symbol for too many things. First it was there to shed light on what the impressive skills the French had for engineering,  _ amongst other things _ . It got so famous that everyone wanted to see it. But the tower refused. It would only appear for the one who was worthy of it and who would be able to comprehend its value. And so that night, Spy was standing, his hands in his pockets and the stars shining shyly compared with the glow surrounding the tall building. He walked closer to the tower. 

The Frenchman put a hand at its base and a spark cut the dark night with a white flash. He smiled. The metal was warm, which was quite odd for a night of December. He slid his naked hand on it, letting his fingertips gently brush the surface of it. Instead of melting under the heat of his hand, Spy felt the hot bar harden under his palm. He raised his head to see to top of it, and smiled. 

_ "J'arrive ma jolie, j'irai jusqu'à ton sommet." _

_ [I am coming my dear, I will climb until your very top.] _

The Frenchman looked in front of him, at the two options available to him. One, he could take the lift up. It would be almost effortless and very efficient. On the other hand, he could climb the stairs, one by one, sometimes several ones at a time, to enjoy seeing the horizon being pushed away further and further and he climbed higher and higher.

_ "Oh, je vais prendre mon temps." _

_ ["Oh, I will take my time."] _

Tonight was an important and rare night. No one around the Tour Eiffel. No one to spoil his pleasure and above all, the tower agreed to be his, and exclusively so, for that night. Therefore, he resorted to the second option. After all, there would be no pleasure to shoot upwards to the top. Non, he wanted to take his time and get as much as he could out of it. The Frenchman also wanted to give it as much, if not more, than he was receiving. He put his hand decidedly on the handrail next to the stairs and started to climb. 

The beginning was as the Frenchman expected. Not much to see at the horizon. But as he walked up the stairs, the handrail under his hand heated up and the marvels of Paris unravelled before Spy's eyes. He saw the different neighbourhoods and recognised them, one by one. He stopped climbing to watch them and name them, in his head. It was a magical experience. As the night was dark, only the yellow street lights were illuminating the city as well as the cars passing the streets. Paris was all dark blue with golden lines and dots, scattered in the shape of its different blocks and streets. 

Spy continued and after a while working to climb those stairs, he realised that he had arrived at the top. He stood there, on the edge of the building, looking at the city and its surroundings that were now completely unrolled, like a magic deep blue scroll of parchment, spreading in every direction around him. He took a moment to steady his breath and realise that he was now at the highest point in Paris. The Frenchman already felt privileged to be alone on the tower but now there was a hint of delusions of grandeur. He put his hands on the wrought iron guardrail. 

_ Mmmh… C'est brûlant et tu es magnifique. _

_ [Mmmh… It's burning hot and you are magnificent.] _

He smiled. There was a sweet breeze that lifted the back of his vest up and that was it. He felt like Napoléon, the one and only, the French emperor in front of whom half of Europe had to bow. Spy loved the feeling of being in control. He knew it had been a privilege of the very few to be alone on the Tour Eiffel, and being at the top of it filled him with pride. He slid his hands on the guardrail and it seemed that the whole tower was bending under his will. He smiled. 

There was one last thing he wanted to do to truly master the situation. He looked above him, at the sky, and smirked. It was a clear night but with the force of his will, Spy wanted it to rain. The tower was scorching hot and it even left the bright red prints of his hands where they had touched it. He knew that it was risky to put the cold December rain in contact with the scorching hot tower. The Frenchman wanted to go all the way. Whatever happened, happened. That was his way of giving back as much as he had taken from it. And so he looked at the clouds above his head and closed his eyes. 

The rain was a torrential downpour and the first drops that met with the metal boiled and evaporated with a loud  _ psshhh. _ The tallest tower of Paris slowly bent, left and right, as the metal squeaked and cracked all along its side, the metallic groans resounding in Spy's ears. The Frenchman had decided to make the tower soaking wet, and so he did. If the rain was cold at first, the tower felt its heat slowly. It was in fact warm and soft, and Spy knew exactly was he was doing. As the metal he was standing on was moving under his feet, the Frenchman guided the rain to fall and slide around the tower, on its sides. He smiled as he understood his mission was almost accomplished. 

Spy looked underneath his feet, through the network of the million iron bars and saw the movement in the tower grow more and more irregular. The Frenchman walked to the lift and took it. He needed to go down and take all of it in. 

"Spy… I-I…" 

The Frenchman knew it already and was not only waiting, but craving it. With his eyes screwed shut, Sniper had slid his fingers in Spy's hair and was clenching firmly, his other hand grasping the bedsheets. He was gritting his teeth as his body was contracting and relaxing in a hectic fashion. If Spy could, he would have smiled. He put a hand on his lover's chest as his body clenched violently. Sniper arched his back up and he let a deep growl escape from his very lungs. His body collapsed back on the bed violently and the poor marksman was out of breath. 

"Oh… Wow... Oh my God… Spy… I…"

The Frenchman brushed the back of his hand on his mouth and went to lie next to his lover. They were both covered in sweat but neither of them cared. The Australian took a moment to stabilise his breath.

"Oh my God, Spy…"

"Lucien."

Sniper opened his eyes.

"What?"

"My name. It's Lucien."

Sniper was speechless. First the Frenchman loved him, next he's in his bed, after that he gets rid of his mask and now he gave his name?! 

"B-but…"

"No buts, Bushman. I only give my name to those who mean something valuable to me."

"I-I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"What? So you want me to go around telling your name to everyone?"

"Non. I just trust you with it, it is yours. You can do what you want with it, Sniper."

"Mundy."

"Oh, that's exotic."

"Yours is beautiful.  _ Lucien _ . I hope I'm sayin' it right."

"What a strong accent you have, mon amour."

"Ah, sorry, I'll try and say it better-"

"Non. I didn't say it was a bad thing, on the contrary. I love your accent when you speak French."

"Oh, wow, alroight, I didn't know, but uhm, yeah I-I really love yours when you speak English."

Spy smiled. 

"Then we are even."

Sniper wrapped his arms around the Frenchman and kissed him, his lips still in the shape of a smile. He loved the taste of Spy's mouth: nicotine, wine and… 

Sniper broke the kiss. 

"Wait, did you…?"

"What?"

"Well, when I…uhm, heh, y'know? Did you…?"

"Ah, I see Monsieur's palate never takes a day off! Oui, I did."

"That's…"

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"I can't  _ always _ finish your sentences, Mundy."

"I mean I'm… surprised. Did you really want to?"

"Oui and I loved it. Now,  _ embrasse-moi mon amour…" _

[kiss me my love…]

Sniper obliged and he felt light, so light. There he was, in the arms of the most handsome man he had ever seen, in his very bed, naked and satisfied in all the meanings of the word. Spy was on another planet too, he had not made love with such passion for a very long time. Everything made sense to him and time had disappeared. He was kissing the man his heart and body have been wanting for quite some time, and there was no sweeter embrace.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading those 6k words of Sniper/Spy spice :D !

Please do let me know what you think of it, hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing :) !

See y'all for 22!

  
  



	22. Chapter 22

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"I still can't believe all this is real… Also, you've got some bloody talent…"

"I understand you enjoyed yourself?"

"More than I thought I could."

Spy was lying, his head on Sniper's chest, and the Australian was losing his fingers in the Frenchman's hair. 

"Oh, so you had expectations?"

Sniper's fingers stopped and his breath cut. Spy smiled maliciously. He knew his lover would panic over that question. 

"So, Bushman, pray elaborate."

"Uh, well, uhm… I-I don't know what to say really? I mean I-I'm still trying to digest what just happened…"

"Fair enough, pardon my impatience."

"It's alroight." 

Silence fell and Sniper resumed his caresses on his lover's head. His hand moved along Spy's arm and ended on his back. The Australian felt the bruises and scars there. 

_ Knives and bullets.  _

Very different from his claw marks. Spy shifted on the bed and put a leg over Sniper's. And that's when the Australian felt  _ it _ . He had forgotten that the Frenchman was in the same state that he was in when they first entered the room. Sniper felt that he had to give back to his lover as much as he had been given only moments ago.

"Uh, Spy?"

"Oui?"

"I-uh, I'm not used to all this and, uh, I'm sorry if I'm very clumsy…"

Spy raised his head off his lover's chest and looked down at him. 

"I mean, you clearly know whot you're doin' and, well, I'm afraid I-I'm much less… uh…  _ experienced. _ "

The Frenchman smiled sympathetically. 

"It's fine. We all learn. But if I may, your lack of experience does not lessen the charm of any of this. On the contrary, I quite like guiding things."

"But uh… Can-can I uh… I mean, I don't know, maybe you don't want to but…"

Spy put his hand flat on his lover's chest and massaged it slowly, to help Sniper calm down. 

"Tell me."

"Can I… uh…"

The Australian was as red as a brick and couldn't get the words out of his mouth. He wanted to ask something, but the words were too strong, too blunt. Spy half-guessed where his lover was going. 

"Whatever you want to do, do it, mon amour."

The Frenchman moved on the bed to lie on his back, next to Sniper. The latter sat up and looked at him. 

"Anything?"

"Oui."

"Really? I mean…?"

"Anything you want…"

Spy repeated, a devious smile on his lips. 

"... And I'm guessing you want to b-"

Sniper jumped on his lover, towering over him and quickly smacked his hand on the Frenchman's mouth. 

"Crickey! You don't need to say it out loud!"

The smile on Spy's face widened, as his eyebrows wiggled. The Frenchman kissed the fingers that were blocking his mouth and Sniper released them. 

"It's true, I don't need to. But you're not saying it so I thought I had to, in your stead."

Spy wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and the Australian felt the pressure of the moment. Oh Lord, he needed to take the Frenchman to high skies of pleasure but his wings were so thin and fragile. The thought of abandoning everything altogether crossed his mind but as Spy has pulling him closer to kiss him, that idea flew out of Mundy's thoughts as quickly as it had first entered. 

Lucien felt the pressure that Mundy was putting on himself in the slight trembling of the lips. He broke the kiss. 

"Mon amour, if you don't feel like it, just say so. I will never force you to do anything."

"Nah, I-I'm alroight… Also, I can't leave you uhm… like that."

Sniper lowered his head to indicate Spy's taut underwear. 

"Bah, that can always wait."

Mundy was staring at it. He was seeing it upside down but it nonetheless impressed him. He completely understood how any man could be in that state after talking to, or even just seeing Lucien. But how Lucien could react that way for  _ him _ , the shy Aussie boy, the solitary hunter, the man in the van,  _ that _ was a complete mystery to him. What did Lucien see in him that everybody else, including Mundy himself, had been missing? God only knew. God, and Lucien. 

Spy had let silence fall and he let his lover stare as long as he wanted. In those couple of seconds, which were actually a whole minute, Mundy felt it. Something in his guts, something that made him eager and hungry somehow. He raised his head again to look at Lucien and the Frenchman realised that the Australian's pupils were open wide. 

_ Ah... _

Mundy lowered his whole body and kissed Lucien. Only the fabric of the underwear stood between the Frenchman's most natural and primitive way of saying  _ I love you _ , and Mundy's body. 

Their hands shifted, explored more, sending electric buzzes where they touched the other's skin, or lighting on fire the trail of their exploration. Spy was about to wrap his legs around Sniper's back when the Australian, his eyes black with lust, let his hand slide down on Lucien's chest and… 

"Oh…! Mon amour…!"

The Frenchman said in a surprised gasp. He screwed his eyes shut and dug his nails in Sniper's back. The Australian smiled and drank his lover's earnest cry. It was a beautiful, innocent and pure thing. The Frenchman's voice had escaped his control and flew out of his lips before he could even fully appreciate what Sniper was doing. The Australian's hand had slid under the fabric of the underwear and he had suddenly wrapped his fingers around Spy's begging for more. 

Spy opened his eyes briefly and looked at his lover's face, a few inches away from his own. 

"You sure you haven't done this before?"

"I-I… No I haven't… Am I doing it wrong?"

Mundy started removing his hand but felt Lucien's on his, pushing it back where it was.

"Non, on the contrary. I just thought you would need more guidance."

"I-I'm just doin' whot I think you'd uh… like?"

Spy smiled. His hair was ruffled and disorganised and through his lips, the reflection of the shy night lamp made his teeth shimmer. He slid his hand behind Sniper's head and pulled him closer, guiding him so that his lips ended up next to the Australian's ear. 

" _ You're doing this perfectly, pray continue." _

Sniper slid his fingers back in position. As he closed his eyes to kiss his lover again, his mind rolled back years before that passionate night with Spy… 

He was parked in the middle of the desert and unfolded a chair in the shade of his van. He put the rifle between his legs, its butt on the floor, and the barrel pointing upwards. He wrapped his fingers around it and let them slide down, feeling the rough surface of the metal underneath his fingertips. He reached the trigger and looked up at the long metal cylinder. 

He grabbed a cloth and started getting to work. He rubbed the barrel from its base up, his eyes locked on it. He felt the asperities and slight bumps of the engravings under his fingers. 

It was a very unique rifle he was working on, one whose value could not be estimated. It was simply priceless. Delicate, but also elegant and one could argue,  _ the very symbol of manliness.  _

The sun had moved in the sky and Sniper felt it shining and heating the top of his head, his brown hair splitting the beam of sun and slowly burning his scalp… _ or was it Spy's fingers? _

The Australian took a closer look at the engravings. He did not know a lot of people who were able to carry out such meticulous and precise work. As he continued rubbing its surface, the metal shone brighter and brighter. The shape of the engravings was unique too, it looked like branches lacing their way all along the length of the barrel.

_ What a beaut'... _

Sniper stopped cleaning the gun and looked at it. The barrel was finally clean. He could proceed with the polish. He took a second to ponder.

_ Argh… I don't know if I should…  _

A second passed during which Spy assumed that his lover was taking a break. He took advantage of it to stabilise his breath a bit. 

_ Fuck it, I want it too much,  _ Sniper thought.

"Oh! Sniper, mon Dieu!" 

Spy sank deeper into the sheets and his whole body jerked up suddenly. The Australian put his hands on Spy's thighs and pinned them back firmly on the bed. The Frenchman clenched his fingers harder on Sniper's hair. Spy did not expect his lover to be as adventurous as that, but as his body showed, there was no way he was not enjoying it!

"Mundy… Je t'aime…"

[Mundy… I love you…]

If he could, Sniper would have smiled. He nonetheless blushed after he heard Spy calling him by his first name. It sent shivers everywhere and his vision blurred. The Australian closed his eyes and held his breath. 

Spy screwed his eyes shut as he felt his hand on Sniper's head sinking lower and lower. The Frenchman rolled his head back in the pillows and hissed in pleasure, his legs and toes curling up. Mundy was making him sink in the deepest abyss there is, he made him forget about anything around him, the bed, the room, the suite, the base, the storm, and even his own self. There was no time, no space, nothing. His eyes were shut but he did not see the blackness. He saw _ nothing.  _ His ears were burning hot, his mouth was dry and he could only moan; his hand was trying to hold on to the thin thread that weakly connected him to reality still.

He removed his hand from Sniper's head and grasped the sheets around him violently. 

"Nnnnh… Oh mon D-...!"

Breathing was taking too much of his energy. His body twitched, he tried to twist left and right but Sniper was firmly holding him. Oh how the Australian liked to hear the Frenchman purr. He was totally in control of the situation and even if Spy would find it hard to admit,  _ he enjoyed it very much. _ He knew Sniper's lips, tongue and mouth had the sweetest taste, but never had he thought his lover would be brave enough to use them so well. 

Sniper soon realised the power he had over his lover. Spy was  _ condemned _ to enjoy himself and the Australian could control the intensity of the surge of pleasure travelling through the Frenchman, like a flash of electricity, a spark that could ignite a whole forest. 

_ Let me play a bit now, Spook…  _

The Australian resurfaced and played with Spy's vulnerability with his fingers, touching, caressing and teasing, the Frenchman moaned. 

"Oh… Mundy… You.. You lied to me?"

"Uh?"

The Australian stopped sharp. 

"What are you talking about?"

Spy raised his head off the bed to look at his lover. 

"You said that you would be clumsy. I find you extremely skilled."

Mundy smiled and blushed. 

"May I ask, how do you do all this if you've never tried it before?"

"Ah, uh, well, I-I… I just assumed that you'd like what I'd like… I mean, we're both men so… I-I guess we work the same roight?"

Spy smiled. That grown-up, very tall man could speak like a child sometimes, with the same innocence, naivety, and his big blue eyes.

"You are right, we do, for some things. Also I want to ask you something more serious."

"Now?"

"Oui."

Sniper raised a curious eyebrow. 

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Sniper diverted his gaze from Spy's eyes.

"O-of course, yeah, yeah."

"Mundy?"

He could not raise his head. 

"Mon amour, regarde-moi."

[My love, look at me.]

Sniper slowly raised his head, his hair falling on his forehead. 

"Come up here."

Spy extended his hand. The Australian hesitated for a second but took it and went to lie next to his lover, his head on the Frenchman's chest. Spy hugged him and pulled the blanket to cover them up to their chests. 

"Tell me what you  _ really  _ feel."

Sniper closed his eyes. 

"I-I don't know where to start."

"Start anywhere, I'm here and I'll follow you."

Sniper put his head underneath Spy's chin, in the hollow of his neck. The Frenchman put a hand on his lover's back and the other on his hair, sliding his fingers there and massaging softly. 

"I-I… How can I explain this…? Roight, I knew I preferred men but I never imagined I'd enjoy myself  _ that much." _

Spy smiled but of course, Sniper couldn't see it. 

"I mean… It's like I've opened a door and everything I see beyond it is new and-and I wanna see more, try more…"

"Are you just curious?"

"Whot d'you mean?"

"Are you curious for the sake of knowing what there is or do you feel anything else apart from that?"

"Hm…"

Sniper pondered for a second. 

"Actually that's a good point. I think I'm curious, yeah, but it's also because of you."

"Moi?"

"Yeah, I mean, uh… Can I be brutally honest?"

"But of course."

"Roight, uhm, ahem… To say it bluntly, it's not everyday that I get to sleep with someone and it's not everyday that that person is like you…"

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"Like me?"

"Yeah, I mean look at you, mate!"

The Frenchman could hold back a proud smirk. 

"So you're saying that…?"

"... That no one can bloody resist you, including me. And I-I consider that this night we're spendin' as a very precious thing, a gift. I don't know whot I did to deserve this but here I am,  _ in yer arms. _ "

Spy kissed the top of his lover's head. 

"It's almost too good to be true, Spook."

"What do you mean?"

"That it's like I'm in a dream. I'm scared that at some point I'll wake up and realise that all this has gone."

"Quoi?"

[What?]

Spy sat up, pulling Sniper to do the same. 

"I-I know it's stupid but I can't help thinkin' like that… Everything's got to end roight? And I'm used to it. I mean, what does it mean to be used to something when it only happened a couple of times…?"

"Attends, I'm confused, what do you mean?"

[Wait]

Sniper sighed and lowered his head. He then mumbled.

"You can't understand, it probably never happened to ya."

Spy got irritated. He had given so much to his friend, why could Sniper not be as open as he was?

"Oh hey! I'm sitting here next to you and I can hear you! Tell me what you mean!"

"Argh! You're just too much!"

"But what are you talking about, Bushman?! I'm too much what?!"

Sniper felt the frustration in Spy's voice and it got him equally fed up. 

"Argh, piss off! I don't know!"

Silence fell as Sniper's voice resounded in the dark room. Both men were sitting next to each other, their backs to the wall, actively avoiding each other's eyes. Spy turned his head to stare at the wall while Sniper lowered his head and stared at his legs, _his_ _absurdly long legs…_

The Australian sighed silently. He ruined it. He was spending a dream night and he ruined it all on his own, like the big boy he is. He rubbed his eyes. Should he leave and go back to his room? Should he leave Spy alone? He diverted his gaze from his legs and looked at the night table at his right. 

_ I don't want to go. I want to stay with him.  _

What should he do then?  _ He _ was the one to ruin it, so  _ he  _ should be the one trying to repair it. Sniper stared at the lamp while his brain tried to figure out some solution when suddenly, a smell broke his train of thought. He turned to look at the Frenchman.

_ Ah, he's smokin'. _

Spy was still staring at the wall and thus, didn't not see Sniper. 

_ Bugger, bugger, bugger… _

The Australian wanted to make it right, he wanted to collect the pieces of their shattered intimacy and glue them back together. He gulped.

"Spy?"

He said nervously. The Frenchman did not flinch. Not even a hair on his head moved. Sniper felt his heart pump harder in his ribcage. He had bent down to collect the shards of their fragile love and he cut himself. It hurt, but not as much as seeing the man he loved, who had given him so much just a moment ago, not care at all about him. 

"Spook?"

Silence still and Spy remained a statue, immobile, as if his very breath had stopped. Sniper stared at his face. A statue indeed but what a good-looking one… The thin jawline and lips, the hooked nose,  _ so very French _ , the cold grey marble eyes and his hair, a million shades of cinder. The butt of the cigarette was glimmering, shyly radiating a warm yellow, which contrasted sharply with the dark blue of the night. As Spy took a drag off his cigarette, Sniper saw the sparkling of the cigarette end gleam in his lover's eyes. 

"Lucien?"

The Frenchman exhaled and the smoke flew between his parted lips, whirling and flying weightlessly in the air. 

"Lucien, Iook, I-I'm sorry, I just don't know how to speak sometimes. I have the ideas in my head but words are hard because…"

He sighed. 

"Because once they're out there, y'know, ya can't take them back. You can't erase them. You can't make mistakes when you talk. But if ya keep yer thoughts to yerself, then-"

"Then you don't have to face the possible consequences of what you say?"

Spy had cut Sniper. 

"Y-yeah." 

The Frenchman took another drag off his cigarette and put it on the ashtray, on the night table. He turned his head to face Sniper. Spy laid his hand on the bed, palm facing upward, between him and his lover. The Australian opened round eyes. He was moved by such a gesture. The Frenchman was wordlessly asking for Sniper's hand in his. Of course, the taller man obliged.

"Écoute, mon amour."

[Listen, my love.]

Spy took a deep breath and looked at Sniper's hand in his own. 

"I think you still do not realise what I did for you. I put myself in danger, Sniper, in great danger."

"Whot?"

"Telling you all of me. My very life depends on my ability to keep my mouth shut. And yet I opened it, to you,  _ for you.  _ There are people around this earth who would kill to know even a sentence of my personal story."

"Why?"

"I used to be France's top spy and I have very good links with the different Ministers of Defense that served during my time. If I open my mouth and reveal something as small as one single word of our conversations, it puts at risk the security of my home country and with that, my own security."

Sniper opened wide, round eyes. 

"Do you understand Sniper?"

"Y-yeah I guess, but why tell me anything then?!"

The Frenchman frowned and put a hand on his face, holding the bridge of his nose. 

"Because I am tired and  _ re-tired! _ I shouldn't have to think about all these things, I should try to enjoy what little of my life I have left! And Bushman, I am sorry but it is only with you that I feel free!" 

"Wait, Spook, doesn't that put  _ me _ in danger too?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"Well, does it?"

The Australian insisted.

"Oui…"

Spy screwed his eyes shut and turned red with shame. He wished it could be different. He wished he could put someone in his heart,  _ safely. _ But of course that was his curse precisely! The list of  _ volunteers _ to get to the Frenchman's heart was endless. But none of these people he could protect. 

"I don't care about that Spook. I'm a grown up man and a professional killer. I don't care about the dangers, I don't care about anything."

The Frenchman opened his eyes back and raised a curious eyebrow. 

"Lucien, I-I just, y'know, I just wanna be with you. I'm might not be used to all this…"

Sniper opened his arms and looked at the room around him. 

"...I'm not used to talkin' about my feelin's, or bein' that close to someone. I don't how it works to-to…"

Spy was staring at his lover's eyes intensely, his own ones being wide open. Sniper was growing tired of his own self. He looked at his own hands as if they were the ones responsible for his inability to speak his mind, as if it was because of his hands that he could not just say...

"Bugger! I don't know how it works to love you, but I bloody do!"

Silence fell in the room. The Australian covered his face with his hands. 

"I'm sorry. I-I should probably leave."

Sniper felt defeated. He had tried to repair his mistake but the Frenchman had remained silent all along. Bah, maybe his heart was really made of stone, maybe he could just not care, shake it off swiftly like some dust on his jacket. 

"What are you doing,  _ crétin?!" _

Sniper had turned on the bed and he was now sitting, his feet on the floor and about to get off the bed. 

"I-I'm leaving."

"Why?"

"Cause I ruined everythin'. No need to stay longer and weigh on you any more. Also, why do you call me a cretin, ya bloody idiot! I'm the one opening up and talkin' to ya and all you give me is bloody insults… Ya mongrel."

Sniper lifted himself off the bed and took his polo shirt off the floor. He put it on slowly.

"Non, non, non, non, non…"

The Frenchman mumbled in his breath. He jumped across the bed and, extending his arm, he grabbed the back of the red polo shirt and pulled violently.

"Ooh!"

The taller man crashed on the bed, his back on it, next to his lover. 

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" 

"Holding you back!"

"WHY?!"

"PARCE QUE JE T'AIME, PUTAIN DE MERDE!"

[BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, FUCKING HELL!]

Spy's voice slashed through the room's dense and heavy atmosphere like one of his knives through the enemy's back, sharp and painful. Sniper sat up again and sighed.

"So… what now? I mean I-I don't know, should I stay or…?"

"I love you Mundy. I love you and I want you to stay…"

Spy hugged his lover from behind, lacing his arms around his chest, leaving a hand on his heart. 

"...s'il te plaît mon amour."

[...please my love.]

The Frenchman clenched his hand on Mundy's chest, on his heart, and rested his cheek on his lover's back. 

"S'il te plaît, ne me-ne me quitte pas."

[Please, don't-don't leave me.]

Hearing Spy stutter made Sniper turn to face him. 

_ Bugger. _

"Also, I am very proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because you told me what's in there."

Spy pressed his index finger against his lover's chest, on his heart.

"I am so proud of you…"

They were both facing each other, Sniper sat on the bed and Spy on his knees. The Frenchman slid his hands and cupped his lover's face. Their eyes locked. 

"I love you, Mundy. From every single cell of my body, I love you. If you decide to leave nonetheless, I won't hold you back. Whatever you do, I want you to feel happy and at ease in your mind. If you do go after all, please just know that… that…"

The words were hard to find in English. Spy sighed and added.

"Je pense ne chercher personne d'autre dans ma vie. Je ne voulais même plus trouver quelqu'un, j'avais perdu espoir et je m'étais résolu à finir ma vie seul. En un mot, j'avais emmuré mon coeur. Tu es arrivé dans ma vie comme un cadeau du ciel pour moi, Mundy."

The Frenchman paused and gathered his thoughts to translate what he just said. 

"I think I will not look for anyone else in my life. I did not intend to, I had lost hope and came to think that indeed, I would spend the rest of my days alone. In a word, I had imprisoned my heart in hard walls. You arrived in my life like a gift from God himself to me, Mundy..."

Spy stared intensely in Mundy's eyes. 

"You managed to blow the wall around my heart to smithereens. I love you beyond what words could describe and please, just know that I have never tried to hold anyone back when they wanted to leave, ever. At my old age and with the number of people I have spent some time with, you are the first one I would kill for, to keep you next to me."

Mundy's eyes shone brighter and his face flushed red. 

"And to answer you, I have long forgotten how to love someone in the innocent and pure way that  _ you _ love. I might be more experienced in the field of  _ making love _ but it doesn't mean that I know how to love better, far from it. I cannot emphasise this enough, I admire you for being so honest and simple, and that is another quality of yours that my heart cannot resist. Mundy, if you want to leave me, know that I will close my heart permanently. I want the last things my heart will remember to be you, the last shivers in my body, to be from you and the last lips I tasted, to be yours."

Mundy could not hold anything back anymore and a silent tear flowed down, shyly, from the corner of his eye on his cheek, downwards. Lucien saw it glistening with the faint light of the lamp on the night table. Still cupping the Australian's face, the Frenchman only moved his thumb to wipe that solitary drop that yet spoke louder than any screams. 

Silence fell as now, the situation had turned into a staring contest. It was however not a usual one. Often, staring means trying to prove to the other that one is superior to them, in any field. Here, it was totally different. Mundy had lost his tongue as Lucien's speech had blown his mind. He was not even thinking about anything consciously. All he felt was a storm of emotions inside him fight; love and hatred, sorrow and bliss, as before his eyes laid the most handsome man he had ever set his eyes on. The Frenchman looked sad yet so soft! How could he hide that side of him so well was beyond Mundy. There were always jokes among the team and slight exaggerations about how romantic Spy could be. It was mainly done to provoke him or mock him slightly, even though some of his colleagues wished they could be as good as him with romance. But now Mundy knew the truth of it all. The man behind the mask had a heart, a heavy one, one that carried years of pain but was nonetheless almost unbearably romantic. What a weird mix, what an unexpected character…

"Now I have told you what I needed to."

Spy removed his hands from his lover's face. 

"I will let you be free in your decision."

Mundy heart was pumping hard and fast. 

_ What decision?! What am I supposed to do? Go back to me room and wait there, feelin' my body and heart freeze slowly, far from you? Go back to bein' alone and blushin' whenever you even just glance at me, keeping myself warm at night by thinkin' about ya? Go back to drinking coffee alone, not hearin' yer voice anymore? Not hearing the slight French accent that stings my heart and pierces my bloody soul?! Not smelling your absurdly expensive perfume? Go back to seein' ya from far away and pretendin' everythin's fine?!  _

Mundy felt like a dormant volcano waking up, rumbling, his whole being shaking. He was about to blow up. He zoned back in reality and he saw Lucien, sat cross-legged, staring at his feet sadly. 

_ No. _

Before the Australian could actually control his body, his hands leapt at the older man's face his whole body followed, pushing him to lie, his back on the bed. Lucien gasped out of surprise and held his breath but now his lover was lying on top of him. Their chests were against each other's and their faces were but an inch apart.

The Frenchman had opened wide, surprised eyes and before he could ask anything, the Australian's lips were on his, kissing with such passion that Lucien rolled his eyes up before closing them and released his long held breath with an equally long and relieving moan.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! :D

Please do let me know what you think of this one!

Mega thanks to the discord crew who support me and special thanks to Crows for their editing :) !

See you later for 23!


	23. Chapter 23

Mundy opened his eyes. It was still very early in the morning and all the lights were off. He blinked a couple of times befor his eyes opened fully. 

_ Blue walls, soft sheets… I'm still in Spy's bedroom and- _

He gasped silently. 

_ Bugger… _

Sniper realised he was spooning the Frenchman, his arms wrapped around his torso. He smiled and squeezed the Frenchman tighter. 

_ Ooh my God, he's is my bloody arms! I-I've slept with him! _

And the Australian felt warm, so warm inside! He was smiling from ear to ear as he put his head against the back of the Frenchman's neck, filling his lungs with Lucien's lingering perfume. 

"You're squeezing me so hard, my eyes will pop out."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide open. 

"Oh, you-you're awake?"

"Indeed I am."

"Oh, shite, sorry Spook, I didn't realise it."

Mundy eased his arms around his lover.

"It's fine, I am only exaggerating a bit."

The Frenchman pulled Mundy's arms back. 

"Did I wake you up?"

"Oui."

"Sorry…"

"It's fine, the flutter of your eyelashes wasn't too loud."

"Whot?! Come on, you can't have heard that!"

Spy turned to face his lover. 

"I didn't, but I wish I could, I would have loved to wake up to the sound of those beautiful eyes of yours, flapping their wings like happy butterflies."

Silence fell. 

"Don't blush so hard."

"How can ya…?" 

"I'm beginning to really know you now, Mundy."

The Australian pulled the Frenchman to him and turned to lay on his back. Lucien used Mundy's chest as a pillow and rested on it. 

"Do you have any plans?"

The Frenchman asked. Mundy closed his eyes and smiled. His mind was empty, nothing existed anymore apart from Lucien in his heart, and now  _ on it _ as well. 

"Stay with you."

The Australian answered without stammering. 

"In that case, I'm afraid you will spend your day being my pillow."

"That's fine, I just love you."

How many times had the Frenchman heard that sentence? In how many languages? Uttered by how many mouths? Bah, he lost count and he thought that it was precisely the reason why he would become completely desensitised to it. No  _ I love you’s _ would touch his heart anymore, no, not after that woman. In any case, his heart had hardened a lot over the years. To some people, growing older meant getting softer but not for Lucien. Not for a top secret agent, not for a cold-blooded killer. 

He thought all that and yet… Hearing Mundy's low, gravely voice saying "I love you" sent the old man into orbit. The Australian's voice was a delight, it was perfect. Low enough to make it attractive, and the slight hoarseness adding what the Frenchman loved in romance: the spice of mystery. 

"I love you too, Mundy." 

The Australian wrapped his arms around his lover a bit tighter and left a kiss on his head.

"But I do have plans for today."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Mundy, I am sorry, but I have some things to arrange."

"Can't it wait?"

"I'm afraid not. Also, I am very sorry but I will ask you to leave me alone in the flat today."

Surprise crossed Sniper's face as he looked down at his lover. 

"D-did I do somethin' wrong?"

"Oh,  _ non _ , not at all."

The Australian nonetheless felt distraught. Deep down, he thought that his lover had said no out of politeness. Little did he know that the Frenchman had bigger plans than the small Australian man could have imagined… 

\-- _ Engie's garage -- _

The worker with the hard hat heard a knock at the door. 

"Mmph!"

"I'm not expectin' anyone, Py'. But let's see…"

He wiped his hands on a rug and, throwing it over his shoulder, he opened his door. 

"Oh, howdy Spah?"

" _ Bonjour _ , Engineer. May I?"

"Sure."

The Frenchman entered. 

"Mmph!"

" _ Bonjour _ Pyro."

"So what brings you here today?"

"I would need some tools, I am working on a knife and I don't have the necessary equipment in my room."

"Oh, if it's only that, help yourself!"

Engie opened his arms and spun slowly around, showing the impressive collection of cupboards and drawers. All of them were carefully labelled with the name of the tools they contained, as well as the range of their sizes. 

"Merci but…"

The Frenchman looked the Texan in the eyes. The short man guessed that his colleague's request would be  _ different. _

"But?"

"I will understand if you refuse, Engineer, but-"

"Dell."

"What?"

"My name, pardner, it's Dell. You saved me countless times on the battlefield and most of the others know me by my name now."

"Oh, well, many thanks…  _ Dell. _ "

The Texan smiled and nodded happily. 

"Of course I understand you won't give me your name but still."

The Frenchman nodded.

"But tell me what is it you need."

"I… Do you mind if I occupy one of your desks and work on the blade here?"

"You mean in mah garage?"

Spy nodded. 

Pyro tilted his head on one side. The Frenchman's request was indeed  _ unusual. _ The Texan put a hand on his bald head and scratched it, from under the helmet. He pondered for a moment.

"I don't mind much, I can make some space on one of the desks I suppose… How long do you think you'll be?

"It should only take me a couple of hours, don't worry, I'll leave you to celebrate Christmas tomorrow as you wish. I will have disappeared by then."

Engineer chuckled. 

"Oh, it's fine, by the way, you're makin' me think about it. Yesterday you and Sniper weren't at dinner so you don't know but I'm makin' a special dinner for Christmas tomorrow and of course, you're invited to join, both of ya."

"Ah, many thanks Engie but-"

The short man cut him. 

"I'll also understand if y'all wanna spend it on your own."

He nodded and blinked his eyes in a knowing way. Spy blushed slightly but deep down, he felt relieved and grateful. His American colleague, on top of being very knowledgeable on weapons and machines, was also a good and kind-hearted human being. Once again, the Texan was showing his colleague how much he respected him. It made Spy think back about the cloth on the cat door. The Texan put a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder. 

"It's alright, pardner… But yeah, why don't you come… uh… there!"

Engie moved to one of the desks and began to clear it.

"If you just give us a couple of minutes to tidy up a bit, you'll be able to start here…"

"Merci, Engineer, Pyro. Do not rush yourselves, I need to get a change before doing anything."

"Alrighty then, why don't we say… In 10 minutes time eh? That leaves us a bit o'time to get things in order here and you can do what you need, hm?"

Engineer extended his hand and Spy grasped it and shook it enthusiastically. 

"Many thanks, Engineer."

"No problem."

_ \-- Sniper's room -- _

The Australian was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He took a deep breath.

"What now…?"

He pondered for a long while. His thoughts swung from the torrid night he had just spent, to how abruptly he had come back to his cold and lonely room. Did he do something wrong and Spy didn't want to tell him? Or maybe…

Sniper gasped and sat up. 

Maybe he was only a one night stand for the Frenchman and all that Spy had said to him was only meant to get him in his bed. Maybe Spy just wanted to, well… 

Sniper grimaced and shook his head, a shiver surging quickly through his spine.

Nah, surely the Frenchman had said all these things and done all these things really out of love, right? Or could it be that he lied…? 

Nah, nah, nah, he couldn't have lied about his name. Well, maybe he could have after all. But not his face, one can't lie with his face, can one? 

Sniper sighed and put a hand on his brow, letting it sink from his eyes to his mouth. 

Why did it have to be so complicated? Why couldn't he just know what the Frenchman thought?! He usually could guess what others around him felt but that Frenchman was a mystery and a half. 

And tomorrow was Christmas. Did the Frenchman have to throw him out right before Christmas? Surely that meant that he was only a one night adventure, a window to another world that had now shut its doors. But of all days and nights, Spy had to throw him away the day right before Christmas.

"Meow?"

Perle had jumped on the bed, with Hootsy, and was now laying next to Mundy. He stroked her fur. 

"Whot d'you reckon, eh? You know him better than anyone, maybe you know what he has in his mind."

The white cat purred, half closing her eyes.

"Cause I-I'm confused…"

She raised her head, with big round eyes.

"Why? Well, Perle, I'll tell ya but please don't say anything to him, ok?"

Perle purred and blinked her eyes. 

"Ahem… Roight, I-I don't know what to make of it. We spent a bloody perfect night together. Don't look at me like that, I won't give you any details!"

"Meow?"

"Nah, nah, that's between him and me… But basically, Perle, I think I've never felt that before. I mean I've had a couple sheilas before but-but they never made me feel so… so…  _ loved. _ "

Sniper sighed. 

"Now I sound like one of them. A ridiculous sheila…"

He put a hand on his face and covered it in shame. Him, a fully grown adult, a hunter and professional killer. He felt as if the Frenchman owed him more than just that one night. After all he had said to him, all he had done, come on! 

But why did he feel like that? 

"Perle, I-I'm gonna say it but please, don't tell him. I really, really fell for him. I  _ love him." _

Like a reflex, he gasped and smacked his own hand in front of his mouth and screwed his eyes shut. Saying it was one thing, hearing his own voice say it was another. Now the words were out and diffused everywhere. Anyone could catch them, the floor, the walls, the desk, the chair, the air itself. Mundy's eyes zigzagged nervously right and left to all the objects in his room, watching them take the words he had just uttered and repeating them back to him, in a whispering echo that slowly filled the room.

_ I love him… _

Said the window.

_ I love him… _

Said the ceiling. 

_ I love him…  _

Said all the molecules floating in the air.

He heard them louder and louder, and as more of them joined the choir, he put his hands on his ears and hunched his back. 

_ \-- Engie's garage -- _

"Ouch!"

"Y'alright?"

"Oui, sorry, I cut myself, nothing serious, my apologies."

"Alrighty then."

The Frenchman was back in Engie's garage in an outfit that the Texan could never imagine the Frenchman wear. A pair of jeans, slightly washed away and a blue, white and red hoodie, which looked quite old. Engineer thought it might have dated back to when he was a young adult. 

Spy put his finger in his mouth to ease the sudden stinging but quickly got back to work. He was sitting on a chair cross-legged and hunched his back over the desk. A lamp was shining brightly there and shed light on the blade he was carving. He frowned and focused on the task at hand. 

He needed this blade to be unique. He put his heart and soul into it and went mute for a long time, only hearing the sound of the tools he was using, the brushing of metal surfaces against each other. The distant sound of Engie and Pyro working behind him melted away. He was alone, facing that metal blade. It was the first time he was working on such a large one, but it didn't matter much. He was not carving it for himself. 

Spy did not exactly know what he should carve despite having thought about it for quite some time. He wanted to convey so many things, and despite being much larger than his short blades, that kukhri had a finite size. He found himself living one of those moments again, wanting to say so many things, but the words not quite coming the way he wanted them to. It was fine but not perfect. Non, it needed to be absolutely perfect. He did not go to Sniper's van and steal a blade for nothing! 

Spy's mind rolled back in time. 

When he had managed to enter, he realised that indeed, the Australian had taken a very wise decision to migrate to the base. The inside of the van was as cold as the outside. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself to try and contain his vital body heat. Spy looked around, trying to find ideas, inspiration. His eyes scanned the objects around him: pictures of Sniper's parents, the kukhris hung on the walls, colourful knick-knacks here and there. Despite the freezing temperature, Spy realised that his lover's van looked like a warm home much better than his spacious suite. Seeing so many things that belonged to his loved one moved the Frenchman and without really being aware of himself, his hands went to touch everything. The handles of the kukhris, the faces on the framed pictures, the clothes carelessly thrown on the bed and on the ladder to climb on it. It all brought a smile to the Frenchman's face, who almost forgot about the cold. He continued to look around, opening cupboards and searching the place for more personal clues. He knew the Australian loved his parents, he had heard him on the phone sometimes and though he pretended he found it all ridiculous, deep down, it softened his heart. When Mundy talked to his parents, it was as if he shrunk back to being a ten-year-old boy again. 

Spy put his hands on his hips and sighed. There was nothing more to find in there! He had searched everywhere, every corner, all the classic hiding spots and the less classic ones, under the mattress, in the bed sheets, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, everywhere! 

It turned out that despite being an outdoors man, the Bushman kept most of his life inside himself. 

_ Qu'à cela ne tienne!  _

_ [Let it be like that!] _

The Frenchman took a kukhri that looked quite old from the wall and exited the van.

_ \-- Sniper's room --  _

"Bushman?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"So do I, Spook. I can't spend a day without thinkin' about you, it's madness! But why did you throw me out like that?"

"I just didn't need you anymore."

Sniper gasped silently as he felt his heart falling to his feet, his stomach shrinking and the air lacking in his lungs.

"Whot?!"

"Well, why do you think I threw you out?"

"I don't know! That's why I'm bloody askin', ya wanker!"

"Really? You don't know?"

The Frenchman walked in circles around the Australian who looked right and left, agape. As his lover whirled around him faster and faster, his silhouette evaporated into a dark red mysterious fog wrapping itself around the poor Aussie man. The air flowed quickly and fluidly around Sniper's ear and in a short yet powerful gust, it all rushed in his lungs through his nose.

Mundy took a step back and put his hand on his chest. 

"Spook? Spy, come back!"

He coughed multiple times and bent to rest his hands on his knees. All he could smell was the intoxicating perfume of his lover. It burnt his nostrils.

"Bloody coward! Come show yerself!"

"But I am inside you _ , mon amour." _

"Aargh!"

Sniper clenched his fist on his chest. The voice had indeed come from his ribcage, inside, and it was hurting. It felt as if Spy was searching his body from his inside, his long and thin fingers pushing his lungs to the left, his heart to the right…

"Stop it! Stop! It! Argh! What the hell are you doin'?!"

Mundy fell to his knees and coughed. It was painful enough to have Spy prying his insides, speaking made it worse. 

"I am looking for something, Bushman, but it is nowhere there, let me have a look in your mind…"

Spy's voice echoed loudly in Sniper's head. 

"Shut up and tell me what you want!"

"Mmmh…"

The echo resonated from behind Sniper's left ear to his right one.

"I see your family… Your parents… Their house… Their farm…"

"Aargh!"

Mundy pressed his fingers on his temples.

"Oh, there I am. I have to give you credit, Bushman, you hid me well."

"What do you WANT!?"

The Australian roared, powerless and in pain. 

"Oh, interesting! So, you  _ do _ love me?"

Said the vapor-like voice of Spy. Sniper was sure it was his voice because of the slight French accent. Even now, as he was made prisoner to the Frenchman, Mundy could not deny he found that accent irresistible. The sharp "ee" sound, the hard "r", like a cat's soft purr. What was until then charming now became unbearable. The "ee" stung his ears as if a needle went to pierce through his skull, the "r" was sawing through his eardrums and Spy's voice as a whole was resounding strangely, as if it were veiled. 

"Of course I love you! I told you!"

"So you were not pretending?"

"Of course not! Why would I?!"

"The lack of company, the cold of winter, the  _ solitude, maybe?" _

"No! Ya bloody idiot! I genuinely just love you! Simple as that! Why do you have to make things hard?!"

"Oh, good question. Speaking of, I did make you  _ just that,  _ remember?"

"Whot?"

"I did make you, well…"

Mundy's eyes snapped open. He removed his hands from his head and looked around him. White. Everything was white. 

"I will never forget that night with you Mundy."

Sniper was confused. 

"Neither will I but what are you getting at?!"

"Do you know why I will never forget it?"

Mundy held his breath. He was still kneeling down. 

"Because it is yet another trophy to hang on my wall, another person successfully seduced, another man in my bed!"

"Whot?! So you slept with me just to…"

He couldn't even finish his sentence.

"But of course!"

Mundy sighed and the same dark red gust of wind flew through his nose, but this time, it exited his body. Spy materialised and stood proudly in front of Sniper, heart-broken, his head low and staring at the ground. 

"What other reason would _I,_ _Lucien, the most handsome man you have ever seen,_ find to spend a night with you, hm? Did you imagine for a single second that a man like _me_ could fall for someone like _you_ , the filthy jar-man who lives in a van?! Hahahaha!"

The Frenchman burst out laughing, catching his breath with short snorts. Those snorts… Mundy used to like hearing them. 

"So that's what you were looking for in my head? You just wanted to know if I was in love with ya?"

Sniper raised his head and met Spy's cold eyes. 

"Oui."

"Well, you have your answer, go away now."

"Why? Oh don't tell me you're  _ that _ sensitive?!"

"FUCK OFF!"

"Eew, you  _ are  _ that sensitive, good thing I’ am not staying with you!"

"AARGH!"

"MEEEOW?!"

Sniper's eyes snapped open and he was panting. 

"Bloody hell, another one of those nightmares!"

He put a hand on his chest and tried to catch his breath. He took a couple minutes to look around him. The Australian was in his room, on his bed, and it was pitch dark outside. 

"Hoo-hoo?"

"Oh, bloody…"

Sniper rubbed his eyes. 

"Sorry mates, I didn't wanna scare ya."

He looked at the time. It was 2 o'clock in the morning and thus he decided to burrow underneath his blanket and finish his night. Maybe the night could make him forget that he was spending it alone, without anyone, without Spy.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading as always! :D

Thanks to Crows for editing my work :) 

And please do let me know what you think of this one! Comments are greatly appreciated! 

See you around for 24!

  
  
  
  



	24. Chapter 24

Spy opened his eyes early in the morning. He was impatient. Finally! Christmas! He smiled and jumped out of his bed. Never in his memory had he been so excited on a 25 of December. In his mind, the day was all prepared. Spy knew exactly what he had to and when. 

The day before, he had joined the rest of the mercenaries for dinner. He was only slightly surprised to not see his lover. But after all, the man liked his private time and space… 

"Tomorrow we will celebrate Jesus Christ, amen!"

Soldier had said out of the blue, saluting an invisible Jesus, supposedly standing in front of him. All the mercs raised their heads off their plates and looked at him, amused.

"Yeah, it'll be great! Ma' sent me some stuff to wear and a couple gifts. She even sent me my Christmas hat, hehe, can't wait to wear it tomorrow."

"Oh that's nice, son. Pardners, shall we all dress up tomorrow for the occasion then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Affirmative!"

"Mmph-mmh!"

"Ja, it would be nice. Uh, Engie, will you need any help with dinner?"

"I guess I could use a few extra pairs 'o hands."

"Heavy, if it's fine with you, let's both join our forces to help Engie?"

"Da."

"We should decorate the base, it doesn't look like Christmas…"

Quipped Demo, his bottle in his hand. 

"Da, Demoman is right."

"Shall we do this after dinner, gentlemen?"

All the faces turned towards Spy. 

"Wait, wait, wait, you're gonna help us decorate the base?!"

"Oui, why not?"

" _ You _ , Mr. fancypants, hangin' Christmas lights everywhere?!"

Scout was taken aback. He never would have expected his arrogant colleague to take part in any celebration. The man was too grim and cynical! 

"Believe it or not Scout, I have celebrated Christmas a few times in my life, as I'm sure you also did."

The Frenchman answered, smirking. 

"Spah, that's nice of you to wanna help, and o'course you can join!"

After dinner, the mercenaries got busy with lights, tinsel and other decorations. In about an hour, the base had transformed into a much warmer and more welcoming place. The blinking lights brightened up the living room very nicely, the paper snowflakes cut by Scout and Pyro hung beautifully from the ceiling and moved under the gentle waves of air. 

"Maggots!"

Soldier slammed the front door open, followed by Demo. 

"Where have you been outside with this storm?! You want to die of hypothermia the both of you?!"

Medic shouted.

"It's him, Doctah! He wanted to-"

"Privates, I have some excellent news and some good news!"

Solider cut Demo's speech short.

" _ Qu'est-ce que…?" _

_ [What the…?] _

Soldier was the first one to enter, carrying a tree trunk in his arms, Demo followed him in, carrying the tree from its top. 

"I got us a Christmas tree!"

"Are you guys just crazy!? It's freezin' outside!"

Spy went to close the door after them. 

"It's Solly, he absolutely wanted a Christmas tree, I couldn't let him go on his own!"

Medic rushed at them, touching their naked hands. 

"Can you even feel your fingers?!"

"That was the good news, Doc'! I have found a way to be immune to any feeling of cold! Haha!"

The German doctor facepalmed.

"You two follow me, I will try and see what I can do…"

The mercenaries got busy placing the tree in a corner and decorating it. Heavy, who was the tallest, put ornaments at the top while Scout passed some tinsel to Spy, who hung it up nicely. The Frenchman turn to take some more ornaments when he realised the young Bostonian was staring at him. 

"Scout?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah I am, sorry I just thought about somethin'..."

The younger man handed the ornaments to his colleague and it continued until the tree was nicely decorated.

Spy zoned back to reality. Christmas was that day. He had taken a shower and looked at himself in the mirror. 

_ Ah, il faut que je me rase. Je veux être impeccable aujourd'hui! _

_ [Ah, I need to shave. I want to look absolutely perfect today.]  _

And so he got busy with it. The Frenchman then arranged his hair neatly with his black comb. 

_ Argh! Cette mèche blanche devant! _

_ [Argh! That white front tuft!] _

He would comb it back but it would fall back on his face at the front. 

_ Et merde! _

_ [Oh and to hell with it!] _

He put some product in his hair, sprayed a bit of perfume and left the bathroom. Spy went to the living room, taking the package that he had received a couple of days ago and opened it. 

"Ah, there we are. Exactly what I needed. I must send Marco a note. He surpassed himself!"

He put on his new outfit, watching himself in the mirror. 

"Ah! Parfait! Tout simplement divin!" 

[Ah! Perfect! Simply divine!]

He adjusted his new bowtie and sat down again to look at the rest of the content of the box he had received. 

"Ah, voilà… Mh-hm… Très bien… Parfait."

Satisfied with what he had received, he decided to go and say hello to the rest of the team. He could hear them being noisy in the kitchen. 

_ \-- Sniper's room -- _

The Australian had woken up to Perle and Hootsy trying to make him open his eyes. 

"Leave me alone…"

He mumbled, turning and covering his head under his pillow.

Perle tried kneading her claws on the Australian's back. 

"Pearl, stop it, I don't want to wake up."

"Meow?"

Sniper went silent for a long moment. He screwed his eyes shut as his thoughts went to the Frenchman,  _ again. _ The image of that tall and slim silhouette hurt his heart. The more his mind dwelled on him, the harder his heart ached. He turned his head to lie on his cheek, still covered with the pillow and Perle on his back.

"Pearl?"

He finally asked. 

"Meow?"

"Why does it have to be like this? Why do I always have to be so naive? Why did I have to believe what he said to me? I knew he was a lyin' bastard but… But I still believed his lies and here I am now, sad like a sheila who got thrown away… Why?"

Silence fell. 

"Meow?"

"He's gorgeous, ok? He is so handsome… I don't care that he seems arrogant, deep down he's really not. Have you seen him sing? He sings like a bloody God… Pff, he looks like one, sings like one…"

Mundy sighed. 

"I don't get it, I really don't. I thought he loved me as much as I did him…"

"Meow?"

"Of course I do love him. I mean c'mon, who wouldn't?! He says it himself, he has whoever he wants with as much as a snap of his fingers. Pfff…. Why does it have to be like that…?"

"Why indeed, Bushman?"

"Aaargh?!"

Mundy gasped and flipped on his bed, removing the pillow. 

"Spook?"

The room was pitch dark so Sniper couldn't see anything. 

"Oui?"

The Australian felt something getting on his bed.

"Are-are you really there?"

Spy didn't answer and Sniper wondered if it was once again one of those nightmares starting. 

"How did you come in? I locked my door."

"Does it matter?"

The Australian didn't answer and the Frenchman continued talking.

"Why were you burying yourself in your bed, hm? It's Christmas today and I have plans for us, mon amour."

Sniper's eyes adjusted to the dark slowly and he could see the silhouette of a man in a suit sitting on his bed. He still did not fully believe that it was real.

"Are your plans to sleep with me and throw me out again?"

"What?"

"I'm tired, mate, so I'm gonna go straight to the point…"

Sniper sat up in his bed.

"... And at this point, I don't really care if I'm dreamin' or not."

"I am confused, Mundy, what do you mean?"

"Don't call me by my name anymore, you lyin' bastard. You slept with me and the next morning, the day roight before Christmas, you throw me out. Wh-what's that s'pposed to mean, hm?"

"Bushman, I was-"

Sniper raised his index finger.

"No! You shut your bloody mouth and listen now, roight? That'll save you some lies. So, you made me believe that you…"

It hurt Sniper to say it and he knew those ice blue eyes were staring at him. The Australian was impressed to the point of losing his words. But he needed to get everything out, there was no way the Frenchman could think he could toy with him as he pleased!

"I believed you when you said you loved me. I believed you when you revealed your name and face to me, ya bloody piker… But listen there Spy, that's where it ends."

Sniper put his index finger on the bed next to him to make his point the clearest possible.

"You won't come to me when you want, do your business and then leave, oh no! I'm not a… a… I'm not someone you can use for that. Find someone else. And about Christmas, go celebrate with the others if you want, I-I'll stay here."

The Frenchman had sat silently through the whole speech. 

"May I speak now?"

"No, shut up and leave."

"That was a rhetorical question,  _ crétin. _ I  _ will _ say what I have to say."

"I don't want to listen to your lies, go tell them to someone else."

"Non, I will stay here and I will not leave until I have said what I need to say. Why would you have the right to state what you want and not me?"

"Because you lie and I don't."

Spy was annoyed. 

_ "ENOUGH!" _

His shout resounded in the room and cleared the air in a strong circular wave, like a heavy brick someone tossed in a lake. 

"Now,  _ you _ listen Bushman…" 

Spy cleared his throat. 

"I don't know why you think I lied, but you are very wrong. But let me answer all your implied questions. First, is it really me? Well, of course it is, why would you think that you're dreaming? Would you like some proof? I would kiss you  _ TO ANOTHER REALM _ if you were not so angry after me to show you, but here we are! I could punch you instead for your absolute idiocy, but believe me or not, I love you too much for that!"

The Frenchman put a hand in his jacket and got a cigarette and his lighter out. He lit one and took a long drag off it. 

"Here is the proof that it is indeed really me, sitting on your bed and trying to put some sense in that stubborn head of yours."

He blew the smoke on Sniper's face and indeed the Australian could smell it. The expensive cigarettes that Spy used to smoke had a very peculiar smell, very distinctive from the cheap ones that Sniper would get.

"Second, you asked me how I got in. The answer to that is through the door. You seem to keep in mind very adamantly that I'm a spy and thus, extremely skilled at lying. However, you forget that one of my many skills is also opening doors, especially those that were made not to be opened at all. And, well, believe it or not, I hold you so dearly in my heart that I will make sure that no locked door can ever stand between you and me."

Spy paused go catch his breath. 

"Now, for my main concern... Sniper, I do not use you for tension release! It has been years, even decades, that I did not make love that passionately with someone. And it has been equally long that I didn't make love  _ maskless _ . I felt free to just be Lucien and not  _ Monsieur l'Espion _ . It was incredible! But all this does not boil down to me wanting to put someone in my bed. If I really wanted only that, I wouldn't have spent weeks and weeks with you, showing you how to taste wine, or speak French or listen to you play the saxophone. If I didn't love you,  _ imbécile, _ I wouldn't have gone shopping for Christmas with you! If I didn't love you the way I do, I wouldn't have rehearsed a song for you! If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have stood in front of you to sing it!  _ Putain de merde _ , I even had tears in my eyes when I did it! If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have given you my name, I wouldn't have told you anything about me. And we talked about this before! It is nonsensically dangerous for me to have done so, but that's how I love you,  _ to the point of losing my senses. _ "

Spy stood off the bed and walked towards the door. 

"There is one last thing you need to know before I leave."

The Frenchman flipped the switch for the main light and blinded his lover for a second. Sniper put a hand in front of his hands and blinked a couple of times before being able to see. 

"Bloody…"

Sniper gasped and put his hand in front of his open mouth, his eyes wide open and round. Now that the light was on, the Australian could see the Frenchman and God, he looked even more handsome than usual!

_ He bought a Christmas suit… _

There he was, in a red suit, but not one of his dull Burgundy ones, nah. This suit was made of velvet, as the slight sheen revealed, and it was bright red. The collar of the jacket was white, so was the handkerchief in his front jacket pocket and the lining of all the pockets on his jacket and trousers. His shirt was white with small red dots and his bowtie was shining bright in satin red. 

"I had intended to offer you these. I hope you will appreciate them, it took me the whole day yesterday to make them."

Spy pointed at the wrapped boxes on Sniper's desk. 

"I have said all I wanted. Goodbye, Mundy."

He opened the door and left, the slam of the door resonating in the Australian's head, like the hammer of a judge in court. 

_ Bugger. _

That was why he had thrown him out the day before?  _ To make gifts for him?! _

Sniper facepalmed. He thought the Frenchman had thrown him out but he had in fact asked him to be able to make whatever those boxes held inside, as a surprise for him! The Australian sighed and blushed in shame, staring at Perle and Hootsy on his desk, next to the gifts. 

"Stop starin', I feel bad enough as it is!"

Perle was about to meow back but the Australian read it in her eyes. She didn't need to tell him. He jumped out of his bed and, grabbing a pair of trousers, he slid them on and rushed out after the Frenchman. 

He slammed his door shut behind him and ran through the corridor. 

"Merry Christmas-Snipes?!"

Sniper didn't pay attention to Scout and took the few steps down. He arrived in front of the door with the knife symbol and banged his fist against it repeatedly, out of breath. 

"Spy! Spy, open this door! Please, Spook!"

He stopped a second to catch his breath and the door opened. 

"What?!"

Sniper entered, shoving Spy on the side. 

"I beg your pardon, Bushman?! Out of my flat!"

Shouted the Frenchman angrily.

"Shut up and listen!"

Spy slammed the door shut. 

"Non, I have had enough! I trusted you with everything and you threw it away, and WHY?"

The Frenchman took the step that separated him from Sniper and put his index on his chest as he said:

"Because  _ YOU REFUSE TO TRUST ME THE WAY I DO YOU!" _

Sniper followed Spy's fingers to his chest and realised that yes indeed, he had thought about the trousers, but not about the t-shirt… 

"It's not  _ MY _ fault that you're a Spy!"

"Oh that's easy then! I tell you everything about me, I show you my face, I show you everything about me _ , putain de merde, je t'ai même fait l'amour comme je ne l'ai jamais fait à aucun homme,  _ and it's still MY fault?!"

Spy gritted his teeth and was now tiptoeing to be at Sniper's eye level, shouting at his face. His English slipped away, out of anger, and the Australian did not understand him.

"What?!"

"I said that I made love to you like I did to no other man in my life! Never have I accepted to swa-"

Sniper slapped his hand in front of Spy's mouth. 

"Alroight! Alroight! I got it, no need to bloody shout it!"

"Oh now you  _ do  _ get it! So that's what it takes, hm?! I need to remind you that we actually fu-!"

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T NEED TO SAY IT!"

"WHY?! ARE YOU AFRAID?! WELL, WE DID F-AH!"

Sniper's punch went faster than he could stop it and the Frenchman's head twisted away under the blow. Spy took a step back and wiped his bleeding nose with the back of his naked hand. He calmly removed his jacket and elegantly threw it on the back of his sofa. 

"Oh, I see, Bushman…"

The Frenchman undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves slowly. He frowned and his eyes flashed angrily. 

" _ Espèce d'-" _

_ [Oh you bloody-!] _

Spy's foot slid elegantly on the floor as he retaliated with an equally fast direct hit to the Australian's jaw.

"Ya bloody…"

Sniper aimed for Spy's face again but the Frenchman saw it coming and dodged the punch with ease. He took the Australian's clenched fist and twisted it, forcing the taller man to lose his balance just enough for him to bend his back slightly backwards, and that's when Spy powerfully punched his colleague's stomach. 

"Argh!"

Spy released Sniper's fist and let the man bend forward and collapse on his knees. He turned his back and rolled down his sleeves. 

"When you can, leave my flat."

Sniper coughed and breathed loudly. He was only half surprised that his colleague could be that skilled at close combat. After all, it must have been an important part of his training. He closed his eyes to gather his strength again. What he didn't know was that if the Frenchman was giving him his back, it was to hide his furious biting of the lip, his eyes screwed shut. It had hurt to receive a punch from his loved one, it had hurt to give him one and bring him to his knees. However, what hurt the most was to hear Sniper's mistrust,  _ again,  _ and after all that Spy had done. 

"S-spook…"

The Australian coughed and the Frenchman put his jacket back on.

"What?"

Spy was giving his back to Sniper. 

"Heh… Argh… I'm sorry… P-please, forgive me…"

"For what? Never trusting me? Even after I've done? Why should _ I _ give you the trust that you have so far refused to reciprocate, hm?"

Sniper, down on all fours and panting, answered.

"Because I love you, I love you like-like a madman, a bloody lunatic, I can't  _ not _ think about you, you're always on my mind, you're always there… Argh…"

The Australian put a hand on his stomach, where he had been punched, and hissed out of pain. He slowly got to his feet and rose to stand up. He took the couple of steps that separated him from Spy and stood there, right behind his back, barefoot and bare-chested, bruised and in pain. Sniper closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The lingering cologne, the expensive cigarettes, the hair product, he smelled everything at once and the delicate scents intoxicated him in the most exquisite fashion. 

"Please Spook, say something… Anythin'..."

Sniper's hands were hovering around his lover's waist, trembling. He wanted to wrap his arms around the Frenchman so badly…! But what if Spy did not want it? What if Spy-?"

"Mundy?"

Sniper's eyes snapped open. 

"Y-yeah?"

"I told you already."

"What?"

" _ You may hold me if you want. Don't be so shy." _

Sniper gasped silently. 

"Really?"

"Oui."

Spy spun on his heels and faced the Australian, his nose bleeding and his hair slightly ruffled. Sniper didn't care about any of that. Upon hearing Lucien say "oui", he wrapped his arms around his lover and kept him in his arms tightly, almost forgetting the acute pain in his stomach. Sniper nested his head on Spy's neck. 

"I love you, Lu'. I love you and I'm not ready to see you go away."

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Neither am I, mon amour."

Mundy felt Lucien's arms lacing around his waist. 

"And I'm sorry for punchin' ya…"

They parted from the embrace. 

"You nearly got blood on my suit! It's a custom tailored one that I requested urgently from Italy, Bushman! Next time you want to punch me, please make sure I am not wearing something that delicate."

"As if you had any other clothes…!"

Sniper kept his hands on Spy's sides. 

"I do, Monsieur Mundy."

Spy put his arms around the Australian's neck.

"I'd be curious to see."

"No doubt."

"Also, your suit…!"

Spy looked down at himself. 

"What about it?"

"You look amazin' in it."

"I certainly hoped I would. I bought it for my first Christmas with you, my first Christmas since… forever!"

"I'm surprised you bought some'in'..."

"I wanted to surprise you, mon amour."

They exchanged a knowing smile.

"But if you don't mind, I will take a moment to clean the mess you created. See, I used to have a handsome face and now it's all covered in blood!"

Sniper put a hand on Spy's cheek and wiped some of the blood away with his thumb. 

"You're gorgeous, as always, with or without blood on yer face,  _ and you bloody know it. _ " 

The Frenchman smiled wide. 

"Right, give me a moment, I will be back shortly."

Spy was about to spin on his heels to go to the bathroom to clean his face when he felt Sniper's fingers clinging to him. He looked up to the taller man, raising an eyebrow. 

"What?"

Sniper looked down at his lover, his eyelids half closed and said, half-whispering. 

"Aren't you forgettin' something?"

Spy opened round eyes.

"But I'm disgusting right now…"

"Nah, you're never disgusting."

The taller man bent slightly to put his lips on the Frenchman's. He pressed gently and Spy rolled his eyes up in bliss. Sniper withdrew and saw his lover slowly reopen his eyes. Spy chuckled. 

"Whot?"

The Frenchman laughed. 

"Tell me, whot is it?"

"Come with me…"

Spy took Sniper by the hand and led him in the bathroom, in front of the mirror. 

"Oh bloody…" 

Sniper put his figers above his lips. Because of the kiss, he had some blood there. 

"Shite, Spook, I look horrible too now…!"

"Oui."

The Frenchman took a towel and opened the tap of the sink. He wetted it and pulled Sniper so that he sat on the edge of the bath. 

"Don't move."

He wiped his lover's mouth and lips but soon, Sniper took the towel off his hands and wiped the Frenchman. 

"Now, you don't move."

"Mmh!"

"Ah, sorry, you should probably see Medic. And I'll go with ya, you punched my stomach out of my body, luv'!"

"Mh, my apologies, mon amour, I-eh…"

"I know, I know… There, you're clean. Did I break your nose?"

Spy put his fingers delicately on the bridge of his nose.

"Non, I don't think you did. Is your stomach hurting that badly? I have some painkillers if you want."

"Ah, yeah, that'd be great, thanks." 

Spy frowned for a second. 

"Are you ok?"

"Oui, I was just wondering if you opened the boxes I left on your desk?"

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and thanks to Crows for his feedback and editing! :D

Let me know what you think in the comments, it boosts me to keep it up! :D

See you around for 25!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	25. Chapter 25

Sniper and Spy were sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, some nice jazz tunes playing in the background. One in his bright red suit, the other with his Christmas jumper. 

"Roight, who should open their presents first?"

"As you wish, mon amour, I don't mind."

"You go first then!"

"Non, please, after you."

They looked at each other. Both knew that they had started an endless game of "you first"... 

"You should start, Spook."

"Why?"

"Because then I- uh… J-just do it, please."

"Fine, I will."

Lucien took a box and put it on his lap. It was circular and bigger than a plate. He put a hand in his inner pocket and got a blade out. The Frenchman made it slide smoothly against the glossy red wrapping paper and delicately opened the cardboard box. Throughout the whole process, the Australian was feasting his eyes on his lover, staring at him and trying with all his strength to record everything of that moment, storing all the details in his mind forever, the light from the fireplace, the Frenchman's white tuft of hair falling on his forehead... Those were beautiful and precious memories. Those events bore no meaning for the rest of the world, but were warming the Australian's heart dearly; the blade in Lucien's hand splitting the darkness of the late afternoon, the piercing blue eyes of the Frenchman, his hooked nose, his thin lips pursed in a smile…

"A dartboard?"

"Yeah, it's for you to train on yer aim. I sat thinkin' the other day and I remembered that day you went outside to shoot the cans. In a way, that's how we met…"

"Oooh! I see…! Thank you Mundy."

The Frenchman quickly stole a kiss off Sniper's lips. The taller man blushed and smiled. 

"Bah, it's not much. I'll show you how to get better, you'll see, aiming is not hard."

"Merci! Now, your turn, open this box."

Lucien gave his lover a small box and Mundy unwrapped it with his fingers. It was made of cardboard and there was a French name on it, written in golden letters. Mundy did not know it so he paid only little attention to it. He took off the lid and looked at the content. 

"Gloves? But you already gave me yours…!"

Lucien smiled and didn't answer. He was waiting for Mundy to see  _ it. _

"Oh, wait, there are two pairs! Oooh, one with the fingertips and one without! Also the ones without are thinner."

"One pair for winter, and one for warmer times. Try them on."

Mundy nodded and put the winter ones on. They slid easily and softly, as if they were made of silk. He flexed his fingers a couple of times.

"Those one are made of Merinos wool, like the pair I had given you… Give me your wrist, please."

Mundy extended his open palms to his lover and watched as he folded back a thin band around his wrists. 

"W-wait, whot's that..?"

The Australian bent forward to look better as the Frenchman smirked. On the folded part of his gloves was embroidered a cursive capital 'M'. 

"Ooh…"

"I had them custom made for you. The embroidering is real silver, I reckoned you would prefer it over gold."

"Oh, wow, wait,  _ real silver?" _

Lucien nodded. 

"Blimey…! Don't open my presents then…"

"Why?"

"I-they're not half as expensive as this must have been!"

Spy smiled. 

"I don't mind at all, as long as it's from you."

He stared into the Australian's eyes and added:

"Mon amour, you could offer me a rock, I would hold on to it like the most precious stone there is."

Sniper's jaw dropped. Once again, Spy made him speechless. The Frenchman loved seeing his lover turn red as a brick from his cheeks to his ears. He smirked. 

"Oh, shut up!"

Sniper answered, shaking his head as if to shake his blush away. He shoved his lover playfully and Spy laughed.

"Also, that's fer you, luv'."

"Merci."

The Frenchman put the box his lover had handed him on his lap and opened it. 

"Oh, it's a… mask?"

"Yeah, I had to really look hard to find it but there ya go, it's made of the same wool as the gloves you gave me."

"I can even wear it at work, the colour is perfect!"

"Yeah, I wanted to get you something useful. I reckoned you'd like a warmer one."

Spy put the mask on and turned his head to face his lover. 

"How do I look?"

"Ah, uh, it-it suits you, I mean uh…"

Spy raised an eyebrow. Why was the Australian stammering over something as simple as that?

"Really?"

Sniper sighed. 

"Sorry luv', you-you got a bit of hair stickin' out…Wait, let me help…"

The Australian slid his finger between the Frenchman's skin and his mask, to push that rebel front tuft of white hair underneath. He stared at his lover's eyes and Lucien saw Mundy's pupils slowly dilate.

"Sorry, it-it's yer eyes."

"What about them?"

Sniper evaded his lover's gaze and lowered his head. He looked like a young boy intimidated by the whole class he had to recite a poem to. 

"They're-they're too strong… When you put yer mask on, your eyes… They-they shine brighter… and it's impressive…"

The taller man was fiddling with his fingers, his back hunched slightly. It was hard to get those words out, but now it was done. He felt his lover's index under his chin, pulling up to raise his head again. 

There they were, those hypnotic clear blue eyes, like two ice droplets, shining with the dancing flames of the fireplace. They were staring at him and Mundy felt they were looking behind his very face, deep in his mind. Those eyes were shedding their bewitching light everywhere in the intimacy of the Australian, even in the corners that he was trying his hardest to hide. The Frenchman blinked and his eyelids slowly fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, his long and thin black eyelashes bending the air to their will. 

Sniper's lips parted without him realising it and the Frenchman smiled, only slightly, from the corner of his lips, on one side. It was a very selfish thing but he did love seeing people fall for him and never tired from the ego boost he would feel because of that.

"So I'm assuming you prefer seeing me  _ with _ my mask?"

Sniper blinked a couple of times as if he was waking up from a dream.

"Huh? Uh, nah, I mean I don't mind. I love seeing you with but when ya take it off… It feels  _ different." _

"How so?"

"Well, it feels special…  _ I feel special…  _ I guess none of the others have seen you without it, but you made an effort for me and… and it really makes a difference, fer me."

"Mundy, I told you countless times and I will again, I love you, not like I used to love, not to pass the time, not to prove to myself that I'm still a man. Non, I  _ just _ love you." 

Sniper blushed. 

"And now, this one, open it mon amour."

The taller man took the box and unwrapped it. It was a bit longer than a shoe box and much flatter. He lifted the lid and…

"Crickey?! How did you buy it?! From which shop?!"

Mundy held the kukhri in his hand and got the blade closer to his eyes to inspect the engravings. 

"I did not buy it, I  _ made  _ it." 

"Ye whot now?! You- Oh shut up! Tell me where you found it! You can't have made such a blade!"

"Well now, you're partly right…"

The Frenchman admitted.

"Whot d'you mean?"

"Ahem…"

The Frenchman pulled on his bowtie slightly to get a bit more air. What he was about to say could make his lover angry… 

"When you go back to your van, you might find that one of the kukhris is missing…"

"Whot?! Did you offer me a blade _ that I already had?!" _

"Technically, I guess so, but in fact, not at all. Look at the engravings."

Sniper lowered his head and stared at them. 

"Did you use to have a knife with such marks?"

"Nah, it's true…"

"I needed a blade to work on, so I took one of yours. Pay attention to the details, what do you see?"

The Australian frowned and focused on the handle. 

"You've worked on the wood, it looks brand new."

"Hm-mh…"

"Also, those stripes look very nice, how did you make them?"

"I burnt the surface of the wood, to make it darker."

"Oh, I see… And you branded the capital M at the base, that's-that's marvelous!"

Lucien smiled and got closer to his lover on the sofa, lacing and arm around his waist. 

"You've engraved a lot of… What are they? Branches? Waves? They look like the stems of some climbin' plant…"

The Frenchman was about to answer when…

"Oh wait whot?!  _ Lux Lunae… _ Is that Latin? Whot's it mean?"

"Ah, well I thought a bit for this one. See, it is believed that the name Mundy was given to people who had some particular association with  _ Monday _ , sometimes because the recipient of such a name was born on a Monday. Lunae is the latin for Monday."

"Alroight, what about  _ lux?" _

"That's because my name, Lucien, comes from the latin 'lux'."

"Does it mean anything?"

"Oui, it means light. So, together,  _ Lux Lunae _ means  _ 'The Light of Monday'.  _ I thought it sounded like a good name for a blade." 

"Oh wow…"

Sniper scratched his head. 

"You don't like it?" 

The Australian was moved and once again, he couldn't find the words. He hadn't thought the Frenchman had such skills, but what really got to his soul was the worry he heard in the Frenchman's voice in that last question, the high-pitched, and slight breaking of it where the interrogation mark stood. It was such an insignificant detail but it touched his heart like red hot iron brands the skin. 

"I-I love it, I love everything about it, thank you so much…! I can't believe you did this for me, I mean… And it took you the whole day?"

Spy nodded. 

"Well I had to get it out of your frozen van, then give it a second life. You may also thank Engie, he let me use his tools and a working desk."

"Oh… Wait, he saw you working  _ on a kukri?" _

"Oui, Pyro and him."

"Pyro and him?"

"Oui."

"So they…?"

The Frenchman looked up at his lover. 

"Oui, they know. But Engie is far from being a simpleton. I think he has known for a long time now. It did not surprise him and he was very helpful."

"Oh…"

Silence fell for a second. 

"I can't get over the fact that you  _ made _ this blade for me and-and you gave it such a great name…"

Mundy laced his arm around his lover and hugged him tightly. 

"Thank you so much, luv', really."

" _ Avec plaisir, mon amour, ce n'est rien." _

[My pleasure, my love, it is nothing.]

"Ya jokin'? It took you the whole bloody day!"

"What is a day of work, if it is to see you smile?"

The hug tightened even more. Mundy wanted to answer back but the words didn't come, or too many of them came. They jangled in his head and mingled. The stream of warm feelings surging through him diluted them and washed them away as he closed his eyes to fully appreciate the embrace with his lover, the smell of his expensive perfume filling his lungs.

"Thank you so much…"

"I should be the one thanking you, Mundy."

Sniper broke the hug. 

"Why?"

"Because it has been ages since I last celebrated Christmas like this."

"Oh… You mean with presents?"

"I did not mean that, although that is also true. Non, I meant…"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"Forget about it. I just meant I feel incredibly lucky to have you at my side."

"You meant it's the first time in ages you have someone to spend Christmas with?" 

The Frenchman felt ashamed. He lowered his head and answered. 

"Oui."

"Lucien, look up love."

Spy obeyed and raised his eyes to meet Sniper's deep blue ones. 

"Fer as long as you want to keep me, I'll never let you spend a day alone, especially not for Christmas."

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

" _ For as long as I want to keep you?" _

"Y-yeah…"

"Do you think I will want to let you go at some point?"

"I-I don't know,  _ you _ tell  _ me!" _

Spy grunted and facepalmed. 

"Mon Dieu Mundy, why would I want to leave you?"

"I-I don't know… I just…"

Sniper sighed. 

"Tell me what you think mon amour."

"Roight…"

The Australian took a deep breath and rested his head on his lover's shoulder. He needed Lucien to help him get the words out. The Frenchman understood and curled an arm around his lover's shoulders. They were still on the sofa, surrounded by open boxes and wrapping paper. Lucien rested his cheek on top of his lover's head and tightened the embrace, to give his lover the courage to speak his mind. Mundy felt safe in those arms. He snuggled up against his lover's chest, trying to get as close as possible to his very heart. Feeling Lucien's arm on his shoulder was priceless. He closed his eyes and felt like the luckiest man alive. 

"I- you know I've told you I've been with couple sheilas here and there?"

"Mh-hm."

"Well in the end, I was never the one to leave them. They always did, and somehow it's always because of the same thing."

Lucien understood the difficulty of it. His lover, one of the most shy men he had ever met, was opening up about a matter he found most delicate. 

"They… They always said I was too sensitive. They didn't feel like they could build somethin' with me, y'know, for the future."

" _ Imbéciles." _

The Frenchman answered, slightly gritting his teeth. 

"Mundy, that is precisely one of the things I like with you and in any case, that is not how one should think."

"What d'you mean?"

"Building something with someone is, as the name suggests,  _ with someone. _ You can't build on your own and you cannot do it expecting the other one to do all the work. If those ladies said that they feared you weren't reliable, they were lying. Oui, they were lying to you and to themselves. What they're implying is that you should be doing all the work and treat them like princesses. That is not the way to treat a woman, nor is it a way to behave for them."

"Can-can I ask something?"

"Oui, of course."

"And please tell me if you don't want to answer…"

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"How did you uh… How  _ would _ you treat a woman?

Silence fell. Lucien knew that Mundy changed the phrasing half-way through not because of the stammer. 

"You mean how did I treat that last woman?"

Mundy did not dare answer, which was an answer in itself. 

"Mon amour, that lady was a woman, a real one. She did not expect me to spoil her like a little girl,  _ non _ . She expected me to treat her like a queen and she behaved like one. What I liked particularly with her is that she liked to be independent and so she respected my freedom too. A lot of my colleagues would complain about their wives not letting them go and enjoy a night out in a gentlemen's club or such things. She was not like that."

"She trusted you."

"Oui… She did. And I loved that, I fell for that. Finally! Someone who did not see me like a lying snake…! Ah, we did have good times and I thought I would settle down. How wrong I was…!"

Mundy put his hand on Lucien's chest. 

"Do you regret it?"

"What?"

"D'you regret not bein' with her or having been with her?"

" _ Non _ , not anymore, not since I've realised that-"

Lucien stopped himself abruptly. It was too blunt, he couldn't say it. 

"You alroight?"

" _ O-oui, pardon. _ "

[Y-yes, sorry.]

"So you don't regret it anymore since whot?"

Lucien frowned. 

"I cannot say it, Mundy."

The Australian stroked his lover's chest slowly. 

"Yeah, you can. If I can tell you everythin', then so can you. And you aren't shy, so…"

"Non, it is true. I am not shy. But I am quite reserved and prude, believe it or not."

"Oh?"

"I don't like to tell too much about what I feel. Every time I tell you that I love you, it's like an invisible hand punches me hard on the chest and stomach. I feel it, Mundy, I really do."

"Oh, blimey… Does it hurt?"

Lucien smiled sadly. 

"Horribly, yes."

The Australian sat up in a flash and looked at his lover, with big round eyes. 

"Whot? What d'you mean?"

The Frenchman's smile faded and he lowered his head. 

"It means I have spent so many years forbidding myself from loving someone that it actually hurts now when I do. As if my body would not allow me loving anyone now because-"

Mundy took Lucien's hand in his. 

"Because what, love? Tell me."

Oh that low voice... It tickled Lucien's heart in his ribcage as much as it hurt. He wanted to say it, but knowing how sensitive his lover was, he had to be careful. 

"Because it dreads rejection."

"Whot?!? You think I could throw you away?! Mate, you're a God among men,  _ you  _ reject people! Folks like  _ me _ don't have that kind of luxury! Also, I already said…"

Mundy cupped Lucien's face in his hands and stared down at his eyes. The Frenchman's ears went hot and he held his breath.

"... I won't ever leave you, you're too important."

Lucien's eyes closed very slowly and his eyebrows arched up, as if Mundy could see the words he had just said flow in the air, through his lover's ear and reach his heart. With his eyes closed, Lucien whispered. 

"Merci, mon amour."

[Thank you, my love.]

The Australian bent forward and put his lips on the Frenchman's. He pressed gently and stayed there for a few seconds, enjoying the contact with his lover before withdrawing. Lucien, his eyes still shut, exhaled a long sigh, albeit with short and shaky breaths, as if he had been crying a lot. He felt all the tension in his body surge up to his mouth and escape in the air. He was completely relaxed in his lover's hands and felt as light as a feather. Nothing counted around him, nothing but the presence of Mundy. 

"Hey, you alroight luv'?"

"Oui… Sorry."

"C'mere."

The Australian laced his arms around his lover's waist and went for a stronger kiss. Lucien noticed that Mundy's lips were shaking less. It gave the impression that he was more confident. The Frenchman's hands slid up to Sniper's cheeks and his fingers brushed his hot ears and went behind his neck, through his hair. 

The clock struck 8 o'clock and they parted from each other. 

"We should go to dinner, mon amour. Engie and the whole team have prepared a special one for Christmas."

"I want to stay with you."

Spy looked up at his lover and smiled.

"So do I. But it is Christmas and we are lucky enough to be surrounded by friends. Come."

The Frenchman took his new mask, the one Mundy had offered him, and put it on. He slid his fingers in his gloves swiftly and extended his hand. 

" _ Allons-y, mon amour." _

[Let's go, my love.]

"I-I need my glasses."

"Let's go to your room first then."

"Roight."

The Frenchman opened the door and both gentlemen exited, like the two halves of the same soul.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading as always! 

Also mega thanks to Crows for his help to make all this sound nice in English! :D !

Thank you Emma for joining the club of the Lucien-Mundy (Lundy) fans :D !  _ May your crops be ever prospering! ;) _

See you guys for 26!


	26. Chapter 26

_ \-- Kitchen -- _

Engie had prepared a big turkey and all the mercenaries agreed to say that the Texan had surpassed himself. Of course, all his colleagues had helped one way or another. Some laid the table, other helped with the peeling of vegetables, the fruit salad or the cake for dessert. They also all respected the dress code and were wearing red, white and green.

“Crickey, the base looks smashin’, mates!”

Sniper looked around at all the decorations.

“Yeah, Sniper, I’m actually surprised it took us so little time to get it all done!”

Quipped the Engie.

“Was there ever any doubt? We were all working on it, mon ami, and we are now used to working together.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“It’s so weird.”

Scout said, looking at his colleagues around him.

“What is?” 

Engie answered.

“I’m far from my Ma’ and I miss her but… I had thought I’d miss her more.”

The mercenaries smiled.

“That’s normal, laddie, we’re all good friends now.”

“Yes! We are all part of the same regiment, private!”

Demo and Soldier answered and the young man smiled. It warmed his heart. He almost felt at home.

“Alrighty fellas, if the table is laid, I think we can all sit, I’m bringing the turkey!”

Dinner went smoothly, as it usually went. All the mercenaries enjoyed not only the delicious food but also the company of other men they now began to know fairly well. The jokes flew in the air, from mouth to ears, the laughters burst, the glasses of wine that Spy personally chose clinked against each other. Outside, the storm was raging and the air was burdened by the heavy snowflakes hitting the ground and adding yet another white blanket on the world. But inside, the warmth came from everywhere, the fireplace, the hot turkey with grilled potatoes, the blood pumping under the strength of the alcohol and the laughter.

Spy and Sniper were sitting opposite each other. The Australian looked in front of him at the main cause of the warmth in his heart. His blue eyes reflecting the light of the candles and slicing through the relative dimness of the evening.

“So, Sniper, tell me what you get from this wine, hm?”

The marksman raised his head and looked his lover in his eye. 

“Well, this one is quite strong I’d say. I can feel the alcohol very easily but I guess it makes sense with the turkey, roight?”

“Indeed, you are correct. But don’t let me interrupt you, Bushman.”

The Australian looked at the dark liquid through the glass. He tilted it and let the wine wet the surface of the glass, on the inside.

“Hm… I’d say it’s quite sweet but the alcohol covers the sugars. Also, I barely feel the wood of the barrels it was kept in, and the soil it was grown in. It makes it a very good choice to share with a lot of people because then, no one can really complain about the taste.”

Spy’s pupils widened. It was ridiculous. The Frenchman, a professional killer, a man educated and raised to cut people’s lives short, that man was tilting his head on one side, his smile wider that the moon crescent.

“Hey, Snipes, you spend too much time with fancypants now, you sound exactly like him!”

Sniper blushed.

“W-well, I-I just, heh, I mean-”

“He is learning from the best, Scout, you should follow his example.”

Spy said, smirking.

“Whatever…!” 

The young man answered, grimacing slightly.

The mercenaries finished their dinner and were now gathered in the living room on the sofas and armchairs. Some were enjoying a beer, others, some whiskey and for Sniper and Spy, it was wine accompanied by a cigarette.

“Spook, do you mind..?”

Spy was sitting on an armchair and Sniper on its armrest. He waved his cigarette for his lover to light it. The Frenchman looked left and right and, making sure that the rest of the mercenaries were busy with their conversations, he bent on his side and lifted himself up just enough so that his cigarette end ignited his lover’s while still between his lips. The Australian froze. He did not expect Spy to do it  _ that way _ . He looked around and was relieved to see that nobody actually saw them.

“Blimey…”

He almost whispered. The Frenchman winked at him. 

“Gentlemen,” He said as he rose up from his armchair, slicing through his colleagues’ conversations. They all turned to face him, and Spy raised his glass of wine. He was standing proud in front of the fireplace, the flames making his velvet suit shine beautifully. It was only at that point that Sniper noticed that even Spy’s shoes matched with his suit.

“I would like to make a toast on this fine evening.”

He paused for a moment.

“First, I think we should all thank Engie for his admirable work.”

The Texan removed his Christmas hat and bowed slightly to his colleagues, who applauded him loudly. Scout even added a whistle.

“Also, thank you, to all of you who in one way or another contributed to making this Christmas very special indeed.”

Spy raised his glass and the rest of the party-goers copied him.

“ _ Messieurs, joyeux Noël!” _

[Gentlemen, merry Christmas!]

The glasses clinked and a powerful “Merry Christmas” resounded in the living room.

“And on this, I shall retire.”

“G’night Spah!”

“Mmph!”

The Frenchman nodded in thanks and left. Sniper’s eyes were locked on his lover as he walked away from him. He thought that he should wait for a couple minutes before joining Spy in his suite, so as not to raise suspicions.

“Hey, Sniper.” 

Engineer put his hand on his colleague’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“You should go with Spah, it’s fine.”

“Oh, uhm I-I was gonna…”

Engie winked at Sniper and the nervous man relaxed.

“Cheers mate.”

The Australian smiled at his friend and got off the armchair’s armrest. He turned to the rest of the crew.

“I-I’ll go too mates, thanks for everythin’ and good night!”

“G’night Snipes!”

_ \-- Spy’s suite -- _

There was a knock at the door, not too loud, but upon hearing it, Spy smiled. He knew that knock and he knew why it had been quiet. 

_ "Entre." _

_ [Come in.] _

Sniper looked left and right, making sure no one was watching, and entered. 

"You took your time."

"I was going to wait more."

"Why?"

"I-I didn't want the others to suspect anythin'."

Spy was sat on his sofa and Sniper came to sit next to him. 

"You were going to wait more, you say? What happened?"

"It's Engie, he...uh… He said I could go."

Spy smiled. 

"Ah, oui, Engie."

Sniper removed his shoes to put his feet on the sofa. He then laced his arm around Spy's shoulders. 

"D'you remember the first time I held you like that?"

"How could I forget?"

Spy rested his head on his lover's shoulder.

"Well I remember very well what I thought."

"So do I. But tell me."

"I thought that I wanted to hold you like that forever. I wanted the night to never end. I-I didn't know if you liked it as much as I did but…"

The Australian paused. He did not know how to phrase it. 

"But…?"

"But I didn't care much. At that point, all that counted was the pain I felt."

"The pain? What pain?"

"Lucien, back then, havin' ya in my arms burnt my heart and it was such a good pain… It's like I knew I was doing somethin' that I was not s'pposed to do, but I enjoyed myself way too much to stop it."

Spy smiled.

"Whot did  _ you _ feel?"

"The same, mon amour. I loved your contact way too much to dare mention it or question it. I just took advantage of it and kept my mouth shut, in the hope that it would never end." 

Sniper smiled and got closer to his lover, adjusting his head on Spy's. 

"Lucien?"

"Oui?"

"I-I… uh…"

"Take your time."

Mundy took a deep breath.

"When you left the livin' room…"

"Oui?"

"I-I felt my heart sink to my feet. I wanted to jump off the armchair and hold ya back, I wanted to have ya in my arms, I wanted to-"

Spy freed himself from Sniper's embrace and in a fluid movement, he pulled his mask up and got rid of it. His hair flew in front of his face and on his sides. Like a delicate silk, silver curtain, the Frenchman's hair now stood between Mundy's deep blue eyes and Lucien's light ones. They looked at each other for a moment, never breaking eye contact, their faces only a couple of inches apart. Mundy's pupils widened as his hands slowly cupped Lucien's face, the latter rolling his eyes up as he slowly blinked. 

Mundy's lips parted but no sound came out. Silence only breached by their breaths, cut by their heartbeats. They stared longer and longer. Lucien was devouring his lover’s charm as much as Mundy was taking in his beauty. The Australian had done his hair impeccably, it shone like satin, with beautiful golden refractions under the yellow light of the room. The Frenchman’s face was slim, his cheek bones jutting just where they should. Mundy brushed them with his thumbs slowly, up and down. The more he did so, the slower the Frenchman’s eyelids moved, his eyebrows slowly moving up, his entire face relaxing under the touch of Mundy’s fingertips.

The suite was silent, the storm was loud. Long minutes had passed that seemed only seconds to them both.

“Lu’?”

Lucien opened his eyes.

“Oui?”

“Can I say something?”

“Of course.”

“Can I try in French?”

“Oui.”

“Roight…”

Mundy cleared his throat and stared deep into Lucien’s eyes while gathering the words in his head. He needed to say it perfectly. A simple mistake could bring down the whole moment. He had the words, he had the courage to say them. Come on Mundy, you can do it.

_ “Je te veux.” _

_ [I want you.] _

A simple sentence, three words that split the silence and took Lucien’s breath away. The slight accent, the twisted pronunciation and  _ those words _ . A clear and strong demand. 

Lucien bit his lip and looked at Mundy’s lips, squinting. He was trying to resist, make the moment last for as long as he could. He knew that if he yielded, that was it. There would be no coming back. The atmosphere was tense. 

_ Je te veux. _

The air was heavy as the words resonated in the room, bouncing on the walls and back in Lucien’s head.

“I want you too…”

The Frenchman managed to whisper despite his dry mouth. He gulped loudly and watched as Mundy’s pupils widened upon hearing him. Both felt it in their stomachs, that hot tickling, that desire inside, that force that pushed them closer to each other. Their foreheads against each other, breathing each other’s air, both wanted to make it last for as long as they could so none of them dared touch the other’s lips. Nose against nose, they took turns to close their eyes for a while, in the safety of the other's arms, savouring the warmth and the proximity of the other. 

"Mundy?"

The Frenchman whispered and the Australian slightly bent his head down to look at those bewitching eyes. 

"Yeah?"

" _ Je t'aime comme un fou." _

[I love you to madness.]

The sentence hit Mundy's guts directly. 

"So do I, luv'. I love ya to bits," he said, kissing his lover's forehead, right above his left eyebrow. Upon feeling the delicate pressing of Mundy's lips, Lucien closed his eyes again and sighed only a bit louder. 

" _ Viens, mon amour." _

[Come, my love.]

Lucien got off the sofa and took Mundy by the hand. He lead him to the bedroom and both lied down on the bed, the Australian on his back and the Frenchman on his shoulder. The latter raised his head so that his lips were just next to the marksman's ear. He whispered.

_ "Je t'aime, je t'aime tellement…" _

[I love you, I love you so much…] 

Mundy screwed his eyes shut and gulped hard. Lucien's soft words in French touched Sniper's body almost as efficiently as the Frenchman's hands. He loved it when Lucien spoke French, it sounded very soft but it also had  _ quite a strong effect on him. _ Spy knew it. He threw his gloves away and slipped his hand underneath Mundy's jumper, on his bare skin, on his lower abdomen. Lucien resumed his speech.

_ "Je veux t'avoir dans mes bras, je veux passer ma nuit dans tes bras, je veux t'embrasser toute la vie, sentir tes lèvres contre les miennes, sentir la chaleur de ton corps contre le mien." _

_ [I want to have you in my arms, I want to spend my nights in your arms, I want to kiss you all my life, feel your lips against mine, feel the warmth of your body against mine.] _

Mundy did not understand it all. He did not have the strength for it anymore. Lucien's whispers made the air scarce, his hand on Mundy's skin made him shiver. He wanted to breathe, but could not, he wanted to answer back, but could not.

Lucien had pushed Mundy under the surface of the ocean he was previously floating on. He had managed that only with the force of his slow caresses on Mundy's stomach. It was as if the strokes pushed him lower and lower, the level of water rising slowly on the Australian. The words softly murmured at his ear paralysed his body as the water now engulfed him completely. 

_ "Mundy, je t'aime. Je ne veux que toi. Tu es si doux, tu as tant de charme et que tu es beau… Mon amour, laisse-moi entrer dans ta vie, laisse-moi t'aimer." _

_ [Mundy, I love you. I want nobody but you. You are such a soft-hearted man, you have so much charm and how gorgeous you are… My love, let me enter your life, let me love you.] _

Mundy heard it all and even if he was underwater now, Lucien's voice was still clear. The Australian was sinking slowly, word after word, whisper after whisper, wave of air after wave of air. He could not open his eyes anymore, they were sealed shut. He felt Lucien's hand withdraw and felt him sit on his pelvis. The Frenchman was towering his lover, his hands flat against the bed, on each side of Mundy's head. He helped him out of his jumper slowly, and put his head against Mundy's again, his lips next to the Australian's ear. He resumed his speech.

_ "Je veux ta voix, je veux ton corps, ta peau. Laisse-moi te découvrir une fois de plus, laisse mes mains dessiner tes contours, laisse mes yeux t'admirer, laisse ma bouche te goûter." _

_ [I want your voice, I want your body, your skin. Let me discover you once more, let my hands draw your contours, let my eyes admire you, let my mouth taste you.] _

Mundy shivered and his lips parted wider. He needed air but couldn't find any. He needed something to help him cling to reality, something, anything! 

_ Oh my God… _

As if he had eavesdropped on his very thoughts, Lucien brushed his lips delicately on Mundy's. As soon as the Australian felt it, he took Lucien's upper lip in his and pulled him down strongly. The Frenchman obliged and reciprocated the kiss that his lover had been craving for, for what seemed like eternity. It sent the blood pumping in the Australian's body who won control over his arms again. He wrapped them around the Frenchman's chest and pulled him to himself. 

Both knew that this particular kiss signed the beginning of an endless night. They felt it in each other's ardour, in the loud breaths, in the haste with which they threw their clothes right and left. They felt the cold of December bite their bare skin but it did not matter. They knew the flame of their love and desire could easily overcome the majestic glaciers of Antarctica. What was a cold winter in an American desert in comparison to that? 

Lucien pulled the blanket up and Mundy rolled inside, pulling his lover with him. The Frenchman chuckled. The bedsheets swished louder too as their legs intertwined, their hands touched, grabbed and pulled. Mundy was now over Lucien. His hands finally met with Lucien's and their fingers slid in each other's hands as the Australian pinned them firmly to the bed. 

The marksman went to the Frenchman's ear and said, with the low, gravely voice that he knew the Frenchman could not resist. 

_ "I will let you love me, I will let you do whot ya want but on one condition, luv'..." _

The Frenchman opened wide surprised eyes and turned his head slightly. His lover's malicious grin was a sight to behold. In the dimness of the night, only his pointy canines shone maliciously between his lips, like a vampire. 

_ "You be mine for the rest of the night." _

The Frenchman screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip. 

"Mmmh… Mundy…"

The Australian smirked, seeing how much his words moved his lover. He dived to his lips again, still pinning Lucien's hands on the bed on both sides of his body. The Frenchman reciprocated and got surprised by his lover's tongue lunging in his mouth.

"Mmh!"

Lucien could not hold back a long moan of pleasure. He let the Australian lead the dance and- oh my, something has changed…! Mundy felt much more confident, Lucien could feel the difference in the way he was twisting and turning. The Frenchman loved it even more. He liked to have the lead sometimes but he loved when he could only relax and let someone else run the show for him. He moaned more, as if to encourage his lover who, in his turn, seemed emboldened by it. 

Mundy's ears pricked up when he heard his lover moan. That powerful sigh made something click inside him. Barriers blew up and shattered to smithereens. He was freeing himself from himself, from the way that he saw himself. He was no longer a shy man, tortured by his preference for men, or his absurd sensitivity. Nah. He was now making love to a man who loved him as much as he did him. He was making love to a man as handsome as they could get, one that could star in movies and that ladies from all ages and all places could only dream of seeing in the flesh. He was making love to the God of love himself! He was licking his neck now, nibbling at it and making sure Eros could not move. The Frenchman could only twist slightly to expose more of his neck, begging for more of Mundy's attention there. And the Australian obliged, he bit again and lapped at it, pushed by his lover's sighs. He knew it would leave marks on the next day, but who cared! That neck was now his, ha! Yes, Eros had spent the last 40-odd years seducing people and hanging their pictures on his wall of trophies but who could say that  _ they  _ did that to Eros, eh?  _ Who?  _

Mundy. Mundy did.

He clenched his fingers in Lucien's as he bit harder. 

_ "Mon amour!" _

The Frenchman's cry was a beautiful thing and seeing him beg for more ignited Mundy's lust against. He came back to Lucien's lips and tortured them to his will while-

" _ Oh mon Dieu Mundy!" _

Lucien managed to spit out as he was drowning in the taller man's kiss. Mundy was now rubbing his pelvis against Lucien's at the same time as he was kissing him. Both were now sweating heavily, Lucien out the raw force of the emotions he was put through and Mundy, because he was working  _ hard  _ on it. 

Lust and desire blurred his vision. Mundy could not see straight anymore. But then again, he did not need his eyes to function fully to satisfy his craving. Nah, he needed his mouth, his sense of taste and his ears to catch those meaningful breaths from his lover. He sank deeper down, releasing the grip on Lucien's hands. Mundy's fingers running on his lover's naked body, tracing highway routes on his chest down to his lower stomach. He wanted his fingers to know and remember. Every scar, every fibre of skin, every hair on his way down had to be touched, explored and remembered. Mundy's whole body slid lower, further and further, leaving his tongue to lap here and there on the way down, sending shivers down Lucien's spine. The Australian finally arrived where he wanted to. The Frenchman's knees were flexed, his feet flat on the bed. Mundy slipped his arms under his lover's knees and held his thighs, pushing them apart slightly. Looking at how much the Frenchman wanted him threw him out of his senses. He was hungry, no, he was starving for it and so was Lucien. 

" _ Aaah… Mmmmh!" _

The Frenchman bit his tongue to smother his own outcry. Ha! Mundy was tasting Eros' most delicate parts. If Lucien was the God of Love, then what did it make Mundy? The God of what...? 

The Australian dragged his tongue lasciviously from underneath it all and went up and continued moving up and down, lazily, enjoying himself as much as he did his lover's purrs. He loved it there, it was beautiful and very much to his taste. He sometimes licked, sometimes took it all in and played with it, in his mouth, watching as the Frenchman would twist and turn, his chest raising from the bed, his head thrown back and frowning hard, clenching on the bedsheets to hold on to dear life itself. Mundy was playing his part masterfully, torturing his lover and sending him to twist left or right with only the flick of his tongue or the warmth of his mouth.

But enough playing, Mundy proved his point  _ to himself. _ There was nothing wrong with him. Absolutely nothing. No, he did not deserve to spend his life alone. Yes, there were people, or at least one person who could love him as much as he did them. Yes, he could get one bloody godly handsome bloke for himself. Oh yes! And he did! If all those women couldn't see it, well, screw them! He was a  _ bloody good lover _ and as shy and awkward as he was during the day, he was irresistible and  _ redoubtable _ come night time! They said he was too quiet and self-conscious, they said he was too emotional, ha! Who's the man now eh?! Who was sending  _ Monsieur Lucien  _ on another planet with only the touch of the tip of his tongue, hm? 

Mundy. Mundy was.  _ HA! Take that ya sissies! _

He closed his eyes and took all of Lucien's yearning in his mouth, deeper and deeper. The Frenchman's toes curled up as he looked down on what Mundy was doing. He knew that mouth he kissed was warm, he knew it very well but  _ oh… _ Mundy knew what he was doing or at least he guessed devilishly well. It was warm, it was wet and-  _ oh mon Dieu… _ He had it all.

_ Mon Dieu…! _

Tears beaded at the corner of the Australian’s eyes but he was enjoying himself too much to care. He wanted to feel it all. The rushes of pleasure like waves breaking on the shore, he wanted to feel them. The tremors in his lover’s thighs as the first spasms of the imminent liberation was coming. Oh Mundy could feel it all… And he was all the more satisfied and proud that  _ he _ was the cause of it.  _ He _ worked hard for it, and  _ he made it, he bloody did. _

“Mundy…  _ Mon amour, je-je vais…” _

[Mundy… My love, I-I will...]

The Frenchman hardly had any energy to spit the words out. Mundy steadied himself, waiting impatiently for it while taking Lucien’s hand in his, sliding his fingers between his. And that proved to be the cause of Lucien’s downfall. Of course Mundy’s tongue and mouth helped, but what made the Frenchman tip and fall off that high cliff was that tender gesture that was almost insignificant. In fact it was the complete opposite. That hand that came to hold his was a pure message, a strong one.

_ I love you through the rain and under the sun, through the warm embrace of summer and the harsh frosting wind of winter, I am here for ya, I will support ya, always I will. _

“Mon Dieu!”

Lucien’s body jerked up and he clenched his fingers on Mundy’s, squeezing as hard as his body allowed him and gritting his teeth. Lightning bolts shot through his body from his head to his legs, paralysing him erratically. Mundy put his hands on his lover's thighs and pinned him down firmly, to prevent him from thrusting forward and choking him. The Frenchman understood but he could not help anything his body was doing. The emotions were too strong, too pure. Mundy waited for the last tremors to pass and wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand. He wrapped his fingers delicately around Lucien's fatigued masculinity and stroked gently. 

"Ah… Mon amour…"

The Frenchman hissed as his entire body relaxed. The Australian knew it was now most sensitive but he only tried to bring some calm and peace back. He licked it a bit more, as if to ease it back to a relaxed state. He finally left a kiss on it and moved up. Lucien's knees relaxed, his legs falling limply on the bed. His hand unclenched slowly but his fingers still stayed between Mundy's. The Australian moved to lay next to his lover and laid on his side, looking at Lucien catching his breath. Mundy gulped and wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand. The Frenchman put his other hand on his chest while his lover caressed his cheek, slowly tracing circles and spirals with his fingertip. 

"Mon Dieu, Mundy…"

The Australian smiled and stared as Lucien slowly opened his eyes, blinking as if to make sure he had indeed landed back in reality. 

"You alroight, luv'?"

"Oui… Oui, merci."

Lucien turned his head slightly for his eyes to meet with his lover's. 

"Je t'aime Mundy."

He clenched his fingers again. 

"So do I, Lu'."

"I like this nickname you gave me."

"Oh…"

"I used to have another one. But Lu' is better."

"Oh, what was the other one?"

"Lulu. To people who came to listen to me sing, I was Lulu."

"If you'd rather, I can call you Lulu."

"Non."

The Frenchman had answered without hesitation. 

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be."

"Why d'you prefer Lu'?"

"Because  _ you _ chose it for me. It is now precious. Also you are the only person on this earth who will call me that. What a lucky man I am!"

Mundy smiled and silence fell for a while, he still brushed his lover's cheek gently and felt that Lucien was stroking his clenched hand gently. 

"That's unusual."

"Whot?"

"I usually want a cigarette after these kinds of moments. But not now."

"Oh?"

Lucien removed his hand from his lover’s chest and put it on Mundy’s cheek.

“I guess I have found a stronger addiction.”

Mundy blushed and smiled.

“I love that in you, Mundy. That and everything else.”

“Whot?”

“You are blushing now and when I c- ahem… In the end, the way you came to hold my hand, and now, your stroking of me…”

“Whot about it?”

“It’s you, it’s exactly you, it’s the charm and tenderness that I was looking for all along and gave away the hope of finding. Mundy, you are sensitive and what a relief it is for me…”

“Well, you’re a bloody surprise and a half too!”

“ _ Quoi?” _

_ [What?] _

“You’re so cold-blooded at work, so insensitive, so argh! But in reality, you’re only a ball of repressed romance, you’re as soft as I am. Only you’re much, much better at hidin’ it.”

Lucien smiled albeit sadly.

“You might be right, mon amour…”

The Frenchman stared at Mundy lovingly.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“A bit, now, yeah."

“Alors viens.”

[So come.] 

The Frenchman pulled his closer to his chest and Mundy obliged. He lied on him and Lucien put the blanket over them, his lips on the Australian’s hair, stroking and kissing. The night was not finished and none of them wanted to sleep. Sleeping meant losing time together and they did not want that. Each of them had finally found what they needed, arms to fall asleep in, someone to keep in their arms for as long as the time would pass.

**_\-- Author’s notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! Please do let me know what you think of this one in the comments. I loved writing it and I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much :)

Thanks to Crows for his editing :D and stay tuned for 27!


	27. Chapter 27

"Lu', you sleepin'?"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Non, I am not."

"Ah."

"What are you thinking about, Mundy?"

The Australian took a deep breath. 

"I-I don't know… You, me, anythin'..."

Lucien switched on the lamp on the nightstand to see his lover better. He slid his fingers in his lover's hair and played with his brown locks. Mundy's head was resting on Lucien's chest, rising and falling to the rhythm of the Frenchman's breath. 

"And yet, you cannot sleep."

"Whot d'you mean?"

"You think about us, which is a wonderful thing, come to think about it, non?  _ Us, _ you and I, the couple of paid killers now lovers. It would make a successful movie."

"Yeah, well, if we weren't two blokes, yeah…"

"Bah, time will come when people like you and me will be ignored rather than mocked."

"I wish."

"It will happen, Mundy, trust me. I just don't know if I will live long enough to see it, but it will definitely happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

Lucien sighed. 

"I have seen the war, mon amour, I have seen what a man is capable of doing solely on the ground that someone else told him to. I've seen the abomination, the violence, the bloodthirst and the bloodshed. I've seen what men are capable of doing if they're convinced that they're doing the  _ right _ thing. I've seen humanity reach an all time low, Mundy. From that, we can only go upward."

"I-I hope so."

"I know so because at the same time that people were sent to fill cannons and guns, children were playing. Mundy, I have seen them, the children, in France and elsewhere, they do not wonder why they play in the middle of the rumbles of collapsed buildings. When they ask where their fathers are, they're told that they're  _ 'at war' _ and what do they do? They nod and continue playing. When they ask when they come back and they're told  _ 'soon' _ , they nod and they continue playing. Children are an unbreakable force of nature. They undergo, they endure and they continue going out and playing. Those children Mundy, they have grown up now and they're adults. They will want to be the father that they did not have, they will want to provide that and much more for their own children. I think great times are awaiting us."

"You sound very… uh…  _ optimistic." _

"Does it come as a surprise?"

"Y-yeah, kind of. I mean you're so cold-blooded and emotionless, sometimes cynical even…"

"Not anymore, mon amour."

"Why?"

Lucien chuckled slightly. 

"Don't you already know the answer?"

Mundy raised his head off his lover's chest and looked up at him. 

"No."

Lucien smiled and put the tip of his index finger on the Australian's nose.

"Because of you."

"Me?"

"Oui, I'm in love with you."

Mundy was left speechless. After the surprise passed, he smiled and put his head back on his lover's chest. 

"So you've actually fought during the war?"

The Australian asked while stroking Lucien's chest.

"Oui."

"Can you uh… Can you tell me about it?"

"Most of it is top secret but I can tell you a few things, if you really want to know."

"Yeah."

Lucien resumed his stroking of Mundy's hair. He lost his fingers in the browns locks there and realised how much he loved the feeling of his lover's hair sliding between his fingers.

"Well, I was involved in the war quite early in my career and I felt the pressure that it implied. I simply  _ had  _ to be good. Otherwise, not only was I risking my life but my whole country's security. So I learned quickly and, quite soon, my superiors noticed me. I seemed to be not only good at the job but also I seemed to make the right decisions, despite my young age. And so I thought France would fight and win as we did for the Great War. But non, soon enough the sound of the squared-toed boots resounded in the streets and in no time, Paris was speaking German."

"What did you do then? Did you stay?"

"Non, I could not. They were controlling everyone and everything which made my work even more difficult. I fled and hid in England. Of course, I continued to work, helping to liberate France. And when the Général de Gaulle marched in Paris again, I was there, on the Champs-Élysées, crying my eyes out, like everyone else. Pfff… Pretty ridiculous non?"

"No, why d'you say that?"

"Crying for the liberation of a city. It's very impersonal, a city. It belongs to both everyone and no one, and yet I cried."

"Lu', Paris is a city where you lived, where you worked hard and that's your whole country that got freed that day, bloody hell! I can only imagine what the atmosphere must have been like…"

The Frenchman put his other hand on Mundy's, on his own chest and held it while gently stroking it with his thumb.

"Oh, oui, it was absolutely unique. Imagine the Champs-Élysées, the most famous road in Paris, a very wide one, full of people cheering, shouting, yelling, crying and waving at Charles de Gaulle who was passing, standing proudly in a car, through the crowd, splitting it like Moses did the Red Sea only with the Arc de Triomphe in the background. Ah, that was quite the show…!"

"The Arc of what?"

"Ah, sorry mon amour,  _ L'Arc de Triomphe  _ is a famous monument that we have in Paris. It means 'The Arch of Triumph' literally. It was built by Napoléon as a replica of some of the arches that used to be built in Ancient Rome, he wanted to celebrate his victories the same way those emperors did."

"Wow, big head he had that Napoleon…"

"Mh-hm. But he was an excellent strategist and he's the main reason why nowadays most countries drive on the right too!"

"Whot?! You kiddin' me?!"

Lucien chuckled.

"Non mon amour, it is the truth. People used to ride on the left for jousts back in the Middle-Ages but then, when Napoléon found himself in front of the British, he decided to surprise them and ride on the right!"

"Holy dooley! Back home we drive on the left!"

"And you can thank the British for that…!"

"Wow… I had no idea… You know a lot of things…"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Well, a private school education has its perks."

"I bet you were one of those perfect kids who knew everythin' and did all the homework, eh?"

Mundy chuckled. 

"Hey, why do you laugh? Oui, indeed, I was not a bad student per say, but I did have my moments."

"Your  _ moments? _ Whot?"

Mundy raised his head off his lover's chest and looked at him, smirking mockingly. 

"Let me guess, did you go around seducing all the little girls?"

"Mundy, I went to only-boys schools…"

"So it's the female teachers that you got? Blimey!"

Lucien rolls his eyes up and smiled. 

"You're not denying it!"

"Indeed I am not."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide open. 

"Whot?! I was jokin'!"

"And does it come as a surprise that I am not, hm?"

Mundy's jaw dropped. 

"Wh- uh… You are something else, Spook!"

Lucien smirked proudly.

"I do believe so, yes."

"Did you really get your female teachers?!"

"Ye-non, I mean it depends. I was very close to them, especially in my last few years in high school. I think they somehow could see that I was going to turn into the lady killer that I am today."

"Oh a  _ lady killer  _ you are today, aren’t ya?”

“I have had my successes indeed and I am proud to say that my reputation precedes me, oui.”

“How arrogant you can be sometimes Lu’...!”

“I am not! I am stating facts!” , said the Frenchman raising his hands up. The Australian lifted his head off his lover’s chest again.

“Oh my… You’re serious?!”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh you are so arrogant…!”

Mundy rolled his eyes up and was about to lie again on his lover’s chest when...

“Maybe, but!”

The Australian raised his head again.

“You, Monsieur, you love your arrogant old man, non?”

Mundy blushed and his face radiated with a smile, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes forming beautiful beams around his deep blue, calming eyes.

“Y-yeah… I do. And you know what’s the best part?”

“Non, tell me.”

“He…”

Mundy lowered his eyes and bit his lip.

“He… He loves me too.”

The Australian buried his head in his lover’s chest, out of shame. Lucien smiled.

“That is not the best part, mon amour.”

“Uh?”

Mundy looked up at Lucien.

“Non, the best part is that the young and handsome shy man accepted the old and bitter one in his heart, despite his habit for lying and hiding, despite his character, despite his countless flaws, despite the fact that he himself loathed his own self.  _ That _ is the best part.”

The Australian's face brightened up again with a smile. 

"Thanks luv'."

"Non, thank  _ you." _

"C'mere…"

Mundy laid his head on his pillow and pulled Lucien to lie on him. 

"Y'know… I-I want to hold you like this for as long as I can. I want the night to never end."

"So do I, mon amour."

And they stayed like that for a while. The Australian brushing his hand on his lover's back and Lucien stroking Mundy's chest. They appreciated the silence, the warmth and the softness of the moment. None of them dared break that silence, for the longer they remained mute, the longer the night lasted. It seemed as though their mutual silence and the strength of the love they were sharing had stopped the clocks all across the world. It was only them, Lucien and Mundy, Spy and Sniper, the masked man and the marksman. Them and the unspoken words of love they were exchanging. 

Mundy could hardly believe that a man who looked so handsome could be lying on him, slowly caressing his chest. Lucien was tracing waves, circles and loops around his lover's scars, counting them and even sometimes pressing his lips delicately on them. The Frenchman could not get over the existence of such a tender man. He could perfectly see why women rejected him. Too sensitive, not  _ manly enough _ . But that part of his lover's character helped the Frenchman himself change, maybe  _ grow  _ even. Lucien felt like a part of himself that he had buried deeply, so deeply that he in fact had bid farewell to it a long time ago, had resurfaced. 

What did it take? Something too pure for the Frenchman, a force that no knives or guns could kill: Mundy's honesty and innocence. If Lucien was the master of lies and half-truths, Mundy was the polar opposite. A simple man who led a simple life, and wouldn't want to change it for the world. Mundy had this pure innocence in him that usually disappeared in men as they grow. But not with him. And that made him a sensitive man too. He did not take words lightly. He knew the value of the words he used hence picked them carefully when he spoke but that also meant that he was a man of  _ few _ words, to Lucien's delight and sadness. He appreciated the silence they shared together as they felt everything but awkward. How many people had he been with who did not know how to appreciate a minute of emptiness. Ha! He lost count…! But Mundy was different, his silence bore a lot of meaning. If the Australian struggled with words, he was excellent with pauses and silence. 

But that nonetheless made Lucien slightly frustrated sometimes for he loved his partner's voice. Somehow, even though he smoked way less than the Frenchman, Mundy's voice was much more hoarse. It was deeper too, and because of his shyness, he would much rather whisper than actually speak. Ah, the murmurs of Mundy in Lucien's ear… The Frenchman's mind rolled back to the moment when his lover whispered sweet nothings in his ear earlier. 

_ You be mine for tonight. _

The soft and warm waves of air had swirled slowly out of his mouth to caress Lucien's ears, sending buzzes in his guts and pushing his heart to pump faster. Oh, mon Dieu, how Lucien would have loved to capture Mundy's voice in a small velvet box. He would keep it preciously, close to his heart, and would open it only when he is alone and when he wants to feel that gentle tickle down south again.

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I love you."

"So do I, mon amour."

"D'you uh… D'you want to sleep?"

"Non. Why?"

"I-I thought that maybe you wanted to sleep and I kept you up."

"Non, I'm fine."

Silence fell but Lucien felt that Mundy wanted to continue talking. He felt his nervousness.

"Mon amour?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You can ask me whatever you want, you know?"

Mundy looked down at his lover. 

"How d'you…?"

"I'm starting to know you."

The Australian sighed. 

"C-can I ask…? I mean, you said you already uh… y'know, you're good with ladies but with uh…"

"With men?"

Mundy nodded. 

"Well, yes I have had my fair share I'd say."

"How… How…"

Lucien smiled. 

"If you can't say it, think it."

"Uh?”

Spy insisted.

“Think it.”

“But how are you gonna-?”

“THINK. IT.”

Lucien raised his voice just enough to impress Mundy and he obeyed. 

_ How did it feel? _

"Ah, well, different from the women obviously. I find that with men, there is something stronger, more violent. How can I explain this…? Ah! I know, bear with me mon amour and you will understand what I mean."

Mundy nodded. 

"What is attractive in a lady? I mean  _ objectively, _ whatever she has that we, as men, don't. And what do they have that we don't?"

Lucien counted on his fingers. 

"First, physically, they have shapes that we don't. They also have uhm… _ parts of their bodies _ that we don't. Fine. But what does a lady have in here…."

Lucien put his finger on Mundy's chest, above his heart. 

"...that we don't? Well, to make a long list short,  _ sensitivity. _ And you of all men know that when a man is too sensitive, he is not looked upon as a  _ real _ man, oui?"

"Y-yeah."

" _ Bien. _ So I find that each time I spend a night with a man, this secret pact that we make with ourselves as men, this part of us that we smother to appear manly, all that shatters violently and we get to show how soft we can be. Mundy, I have spent nights with men who would seem hard as rocks to you, but believe me, once in the privacy of the bed sheets, those ridiculous barriers melt and they show love and delicateness better than any woman I have been with. There is something truly liberating for them to spend a night  _ with another man. _ As soon as it is clear what the intentions are, they abandon this mask they've been putting on all their lives. And they can only feel safe doing so when it is with another fellow man as it is exactly the same for all of us. A woman would never understand how hard we suppress and repress these emotions, the softness, the sorrow. We bury it in ourselves oh so deep… But it all comes back springing powerfully in those moments, when we think that because it is another fellow man in front of you, it is safe to spill all this out."

Lucien paused to catch his breath. 

"However with you… Once again, you prove to be very different from the other men I've had a night with."

"How so? Is-is it bad?"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Non, on the contrary, it is much better. I already told you, I can hardly recall the last time I had such passionate moments, moments where both the mind and the body agree."

"Whot d'you mean?"

"Sometimes, uhm… Mon amour, may I be blunt?"

"Uh… Okay…"

"Well, I simply can't think of another way to phrase it… Sometimes sex can be quite  _ mechanical _ . You're on a mission, the only Frenchman for miles around, and the beauty of the foreign country you have been dropped in is simply exquisite. Different cultures, different colours, different perfumes… Your mission is to go in one of those fancy dinners with important people and listen in, here and there. You look around and everyone is impeccably dressed, men in sharp suits, their hair shining with gel, and women, absolutely tempting with their dresses which let you half guess what wonders they cover under the satin cloth. Everyone's makeup is perfect, we all look our absolute best."

Lucien paused for an instant. 

"Fancy dinner in Asia? Cherry blossom, satin and colours which beckons your curiosity. In Africa? Roses, bright colours that intoxicate your eyes and blind you. In the Middle East? Jasmin and you can only see the eyes of a woman made prude by the prince that she is following. But she knows you looked at her, with her big black eyes, beautifully lined with  _ khhol-" _

"With whot?"

" _ Khhol, _ it's the Arabic word for the black eyeliner that women use in those countries. Some men use it too."

"Wait, you speak Arabic?!"

"Some words and sentences, yes, but not much."

"Blimey… How many languages d'you know?!"

"Not that many. But I can survive in most countries you can think of."

"And wait, you said men wear makeup?"

"Oui and non. They just wear this eyeliner. It is believed that the prophet of their religion used to wear it, so men do too."

"Wow…"

Mundy was clearly impressed by the knowledge that his well-travelled lover had accumulated. 

"But let's go back to the point, mon amour. A woman from these countries knows what you want with a simple gaze in your eyes. Ah, those black eyes that pierce through your soul. You feel naked when she looks at you.  _ Naked already,  _ but you're fully dressed and standing at the hotel reception, wondering what her long veil hides, what shapes does the prince want to keep for himself?"

Lucien sighed. 

"And you think that you're young and you know that you're handsome, you know that, given a bit of time, you will lift the veil off that woman. And so it begins. The chase. You're the predator, she's the prey and you both know it. It's exciting, thrilling even! Her prince follows her everywhere but you both know what she wants and what  _ you _ want."

"But mate, her prince? Whot am I s'pposed to do with him?"

Lucien smiled as he realised how easily Mundy got carried away by his story.

"Well, mon amour, you have a few options: kill the Prince…?"

"Nah, people are going to notice."

"Seduce him?"

"Whot?! Aren't we going for the sheila?"

"As you wish…"

"Mate, I can hardly go and try to get one person, two is too hard. Let's stick with the sheila."

"So no seducing the Prince?"

"Nah."

" _ Bien. _ Then you could try and find a way to get him distracted long enough."

"Okay, but how?"

"Oh, you could try and set him up with another  _ sheila _ , as you say."

"Mmmh, I like the idea, Spook. Let's do that!"

" _ Bien _ , in that case… Step one: you find the most good looking lady in the room, get her attention and casually mention the Prince. Step two: you go near the Prince and mention the fact that lady might be interested to seal some business with him. Step three: you wait."

"I wait?"

"Oui, you wait for him to make a move towards her. He's a Prince, he's been raised to believe that people  _ owe  _ him. So he  _ knows _ he will get what he wants from that woman. She may play hard to get but that will only be a bonus as it will give you more time with his wife."

"Makes sense I guess…"

"So you go to her, with a glass of wine."

"Only one?"

"Oui."

"Why?"

"You'll see… You go to her and say hello, but you pay attention to say it in arabic, with a slight French accent."

"Whot? Why the French accent?"

"You of all people should know what that accent is capable of creating, mon amour."

"Ah… Fair…"

Both lovers exchanged a conniving smile.

"So, as I was saying, you engage the conversation with her. You offer your glass of wine to her. She accepts."

"Well now I don't have my glass anymore, mate!"

Lucien smiled while tracing more loops and circles on his lover's chest. 

"Exactly. So you offer your arm and start strolling together, under the pretext of finding a glass of something for yourself. But of course, you avoid all the waiters and you just find a place where the both of you can get some privacy."

"Oooh, cunnin' bastard you are, luv'."

"Well, I have my moments…!"

Lucien quipped before resuming his speech.

"And so you're on a balcony, you and her. You don't make eye contact, you just let the silence weigh heavier, slowly, until she puts her glass down and looks up to you."

"Oh…?"

Lucien paused. 

"Then whot? Whot do I do…?"

"You look down at her. The night sky is dark blue and her eyes, even if they're pitch black, glisten beautifully under the stars. She looks up at you, and you know she is going to do it."

"Do whot?"

"Be patient, Bushman…!"

"Roight, roight…"

Lucien smiled. 

"She slowly puts her hand around the edge of her veil and lifts it, revealing her beautiful caramel skin, her slim nose and her perfect lips…"

"Oi, there…!"

Lucien snapped back to reality. 

"Mon amour, yours are  _ really _ perfect, those ones are perfect for the sake of the story."

"Yeah, well… I had to stop you and make sure, you never know…"

The Frenchman lifted himself off of his lover's arms and went to his lips. He kissed them passionately yet softly. Mundy rolled his eyes up and closed them. He let a low moan escape and took his time to enjoy the Frenchman's lips as best as he could. Not only was Lucien an incredible kisser, he knew exactly what emotions to convey through the twist of his lips. Mundy knew it now, but he still could not resist those thin and skillful lips on his.

Lucien withdrew his lips, slowly. 

"Mon amour, only  _ your _ lips count."

He said, half-whispering, and the Australian blushed. 

"I-uh… Thanks, luv', but uh… I-I barely know how to use them…"

Lucien went back to lie on his lover's arm.

"You say it as if it was a bad thing."

Mundy yawned.

"Ah… Well I always feel it when you-uh… when you kiss me, I feel like you're doing all the work and you know where you're going and… And I fail to give you back as much as you give me."

"Non."

Lucien's head jumped up to face his lover and he put his hand on Mundy's cheek. 

"Don't think that."

"Oh?"

Mundy opened round, innocent eyes. Lucien held his lover's chin between his fingers delicately and straddled the Australian, bringing his face closer to Mundy's. He stared in his eyes for a moment, which seemed like eternity for the taller man, who lost his breath. 

"Mundy, that is wrong."

Lucien's eyes shone hypnotically with the light from the night lamp. They glimmered and pierced powerfully through the night and directly to his lover's soul. 

"What you did to me tonight, the way you kissed me was something  _ different. _ "

Mundy was about to answer but Lucien put his index finger on his lover's lips. 

"And don't try to tell me otherwise. I  _ know  _ you, I know your lips and I know your kisses. You kissed me differently."

He paused and let the word sink in Mundy's head. 

"And it was wonderful. Not only did you assert your confidence much better, but it also felt like you freed yourself and the final doubts that were somewhere here…"

The Australian followed his lover's index from his his lips down to his heart.

"... They have vanished."

Mundy looked up at his lover, who was towering him and smiled. The Frenchman answered with an equally sweet grin. 

"C'mere…"

The Australian wrapped his arms around his lover, one on the nape of his neck and the other on his back. Lucien lied on his lover's chest and slipped his arms underneath Mundy's back, on the bed, and shivered. 

"You cold?"

The Frenchman yawned.

"Mmh… Oui, a bit."

"Wait."

Mundy pulled the blanket and covered his lover.

"Am I crushing you, mon amour?"

"Nah, I want you as close as possible to me. I-I…"

Mundy paused. 

"I love ya, I can't bloody think about anything else, I just love ya."

Lucien smiled as his closed his eyes. 

"So do I,  _ mon coeur, je t'aime à la folie. _

[So do I, my sweetheart, I love you to madness.]

They both fell asleep in each other's arms, peacefully, as the first hours of the morning were showing. But what was the morning or the night for them? Nothing but time to spend together.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and hopefully you liked this cute, fluffy chapter :D 

Let me know in the comments!

Thanks to Crows for his editing and thanks to the discord crew for their kind words!

See y'all for 28!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	28. Chapter 28

Lucien woke up first. He did not want to open his eyes, hoping he would manage to fall asleep again. His whole body woke up slowly, his hands and his overall sense of touch first, and then his sense of smell. 

_ Son parfum… _

_ [His perfume…] _

Mundy's lingering perfume gently flowed to the Frenchman's nostrils and he smiled. He then realised that his head was rising and falling to the rhythm of his lover's breath. He blushed slightly, realising that he was still on Mundy's chest. 

_ J'aimerais que ça ne s'arrête jamais… _

_ [I would like it to never end…] _

As soon as he finished that sentence, the fear of parting from his lover's arms seized him in a spasm. His eyes snapped open and his breath cut short.

But why? What could pull him out of Mundy's arms? 

The answer stood in one unbreakable word, like a black wall in front of the Frenchman.  _ Life. _ Life had that awful habit of stripping Lucien of anything that he could enjoy. And life had always been vicious enough to give him good things and wait for the Frenchman to grow attached to them, before snatching them away from his very hands. 

Lucien felt shivers run down his back and in his thighs. He hugged his lover a bit tighter, clinging to him dearly as he made a promise to himself, deep inside. He shall not let life make them part. Non. If he needed to give everything he had away, he would gladly. If he had to walk barefoot in the Sahara desert or swim his way to Antarctica, he would gladly. Non, this time, life will not win.  _ He will. _

Mundy's hand moved to lay flat on his back and broke his train of thought. Lucien looked up and realised his lover had woken up. 

"Mornin', luv'."

"Bonjour mon amour. Did I wake you up?"

"Nah, I woke up on my own."

Mundy put his other hand behind Lucien's back and stroked him gently. The Frenchman smiled. 

"Have you slept well?"

"Yeah, and as it turns out, I woke up in the best way possible."

Both of them smiled. 

"Ca-can I tell you somethin'?"

"But of course."

"Y'know, I uh… I mean I used to have nightmares before."

"Before what?"

"Before now. When I go back to me room and sleep there, I'd always have horrible nightmares."

"Tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me one of them."

Mundy felt uncomfortable.

"Uh, mate, I mean-"

"Please." 

The Australian sighed. 

"Roight. There was this one where you end up in my arms with a bullet in your chest and… And I come to hold you in my arms and…"

Lucien hugged tighter. 

"Bloody hell, I won't let anyone put a bullet in you, ever, even if I have to take it myself."

The Frenchman raised his head off his lover's chest. 

"Non mon amour, don't take bullets for me, it's useless."

"No! You… You don't know what it felt like to see you lifeless like that… And I held you in my arms and yelled  _ 'Spy! Spy!!' _ but no answer. It was horrible. I looked down at you and your suit was losing its colors and you as a whole were turning black and white." 

"Mon amour, I promise you that will not happen. I will not let anyone shoot me or take me down."

"I know, I know cause I'll make sure of that too."

Mundy covered his lover a bit better with the blanket and wrapped his arms around the older man. 

"When did you dream of that?"

"Before we uh…."

Mundy was once again too shy to find the words but his lover understood nonetheless.

"I see. And the other nightmares?"

"When we fight and I go back to my room, or when I'm sleeping alone."

"Was I also in those?"

"Yeah, you're always there somehow. There was even one with Pearl…"

Lucien smiled. 

"When did it start?"

"Let me think… Uh…"

The Australian squinted, trying to press his brain into finding when it had started all.

"Uh… I can't tell exactly but it was definitely during the wine tasting lessons days."

Lucien chuckled. 

"What? Why're you laughin'?"

"Sorry mon amour, don't take it badly. I am laughing because I'm realising that you started having those nightmares when, perhaps, you started to like me a bit more than you would a friend."

Mundy opened wide, surprised eyes. 

"Oh… Might be true yeah…" 

Lucien smiled. 

"Any _other kind of_ _dreams_ with me?"

The Australian blushed.

"Uh-ah, no, I don't think so, uh... not that I can think of straight away…"

The Frenchman smiled. Mundy was a terrible liar...

"I am glad you did have  _ those _ dreams. I did too."

Mundy turned red as a brick. 

"Oh, uh, I mean, I didn't mean that, uh, yeah nah…"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Don't feel ashamed. I take it as a compliment that you had those kinds of dreams about me, though I do wonder about one thing."

He paused and waited for the blush on Mundy's cheeks to fade away. 

"What?"

"I wonder if I managed to meet those expectations in reality?"

Lucien raised his head to see his lover's face. It contorted in various grimaces and he could feel the cheeks turn hot. 

"Oh, well, uh, o'course, you're as wonderful in real life than in my dreams, yeah."

"Mundy…?"

The Australian diverted his gaze from his lover. He couldn't bear to look at his face and see his eyes read his very thoughts.

"I mean, uh, you're, nah, yeah you're really good and…"

"Mundy…?"

Mundy sighed. 

"Roight, yeah, I did made some dreams where we…. Uh… Well, y'know what I mean. And I'd never have thought I would one day… uh.. do it for real."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"I did answer, I said you were as good in real life! I mean you're very uh…  _ experienced. _ You clearly know what you're doing and you do it so well… It's bloody crazy. And in any case, I didn't dream about you explicitly doing, y'know, what you did. It was mainly me doing  _ things _ to you. I never could imagine you would want to reciprocate."

"Good. Now I believe you. But please…"

Lucien put his index right under Mundy's chin and made him face himself. 

"...Don't feel ashamed about anything with me. I am very proud that you dreamt of us before  _ us _ became real. Actually, I'm even moved by your nightmares."

Mundy opened wide, surprised eyes. 

"Oui, mon amour, you dreamt of the pain you would feel if you were to ever lose me. That means that you care very dearly about me, even in your sleep."

The Australian nodded. 

"And I care very much about my  _ Headshot Man." _

Lucien left a slow kiss on Mundy's lips, one of those that makes a loud lapping sound, and the latter smiled. The Frenchman looked at the clock.

"Let us wake up and go to the kitchen before the others do, hm?"

"Y-yeah, that's a good idea."

Silence fell and Lucien did not move off Mundy's chest. 

"Uh, luv'?"

"Oui?"

"D'you mind…? I can't get up if you're on top of me."

"Oh Monsieur Mundy does not like it when I am _on top of him, hm?_ _Bien,_ I will remember this."

"No, no, that's not what I meant! I meant-"

The Frenchman continued teasing. 

" _ Non,  _ I perfectly understood what you meant, fine!"

"Lu', I just meant that I can't get up!"

"Well that's your problem. Deal with it!"

The Frenchman said, smirking while wrapping his arms tighter around his lover.

"Oh for the love of… Hm… Let me think, Baguette Knife… How can I  _ unstick _ ya from me?"

"Good luck with that!"

"Shh! Let me think!" 

The Australian pondered for a while, his hand in his lover's hair, playing with the locks that were definitely growing longer. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Oh, I know!"

Mundy exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around his lover, chuckling in anticipation. 

"What are you-aaah?!"

The taller man rolled on his side, thus putting the Frenchman under him. 

"There we go!"

Mundy smiled proudly and left a kiss on his lover's brow. He then got off the bed and looked behind him, at his lover. 

"Gotcha Lu'! Now, do you want to go to the shower first or…?"

The Frenchman's pupils were wide. He was staring at his lover, standing tall and proud next to the bed. Mundy was quite lean although one would definitely feel the muscles in his arms, not so much on his stomach though, as his unspoken love for beer showed there. His legs were tall and slim and above all, he was standing  _ as naked as a worm _ as they say in French.

"Oh, roight, let me sort it out then."

Lucien had completely zoned out of reality, his jaw had dropped a long time ago and there he was, lying on the bed as lively as a starfish. Mundy got closer to the bed and if he had originally planned to just leave a kiss on his lover's cheek, another idea crossed his mind. He got closer to Lucien's ear, resting one knee on the bed and whispered with his gravelly voice.

"Can-can I do something? I-uh… I'd love to do it with ya but uh…"

Lucien was still floating high in the atmosphere, whirling under the gentle windmills of Mundy's voice. 

"Oui."

He answered, his mouth dry and the oxygen lacking in the air. 

Mundy smiled and without adding a word, he took the Frenchman by the hand and pulled him off the bed. He lead the way to the bathroom and shut the door behind them. The Australian then turned his back to his lover to turn the tap for hot water. 

"Mmmh…"

Mundy smiled as Lucien was hugging him from behind, resting his cheek on the Australian's back. Who could imagine that cold-blooded snake of a man could be  _ that _ clingy?

"Thanks luv'," the Marksman simply answered, putting a hand on Lucien's. The Frenchman tightened his hug, which made Mundy's cheeks turn pink. He tested the water and thought it was warm enough. The taller man turned to his lover. 

"Roight, let's go."

Lucien took his hand and stepped in, closely followed by Mundy who slid the door of the shower shut. The water was hot and the narrow shower soon got completely wrapped in a thick fog of steam. 

Without a word, Mundy reached for the shampoo and put some on his lover's head. The Frenchman took the shower gel and spread it on Mundy's chest and shoulders. The world could collapse around them, they would not care. 

Mundy laughed and Lucien raised his head, closing one eye. 

"What?"

"Mate, you look hilarious with all this foam on yer head!"

"Oh do I…? There!"

Lucien took a bit of foam on his lover's chest and put it on tip of his nose. 

"Voilà! Now we're equally ridiculous!"

Mundy burst out laughing and Lucien smiled. It softened him to see the man he loved -  _ his _ man - laugh. He also had an indescribable affection for Mundy's laughter.

"C'mere, I'll wash it away…"

Lucien obliged and got closer to the shower head. He felt Mundy's warm fingers slide though his hair and push away the foam and the shampoo. 

"There ya go, now you look…"

Mundy interrupted his own sentence. Lucien's hair was indeed quite long, it was arriving at his chin. The Frenchman slicked his hair back and doing so, white tuft he had at the front beautifully laid on top of his head. It shone brightly despite the steam. 

"I look…?"

"Your hair… I…"

"Bushman, that is a lot of starting sentences, you have to finish at least one. I am all for suspense, but not for torture like that."

"Ah-"

The marksman was left agape. His eyes stuck on his lover's silky hair, sliding his fingers through the locks. Lucien smiled. 

"Fine, don't finish your sentence, I know what you thought."

Mundy smiled back. He slid his hands down along his lover's cheeks and reached for the shower gel. 

"Any plans for today, mon amour?"

Mundy put some shower gel between his hands and spread it on Lucien's skin, his chest first and then, making the Frenchman turn, he got busy with his back.

"Not really, nah… The storm seems to have calmed down a bit so I hope I can get back to me van."

"Oh?"

Mundy heard the disappointment in Lucien's voice. 

"It's just to make sure that everything's alroight. I don't really want to live there again… I mean, not alone."

The Frenchman rinsed his lover of the foamy shower gel and then washed himself. 

"I would gladly come with you."

"Wai-what? Really?"

The Australian's face brightened. 

"Oui, why not? I mean I don't think I could live there for a long time. But I'd rather be there  _ with you _ than here  _ alone." _

The Frenchman put his hands on Mundy's waist and slid them around. He came closer to his lover and rested his head on his chest, right under his chin. The hot water still showered them gently as their hug made their bodies warm up as much as the water itself. The Australian curled his arms around Lucien's back. 

"Mundy, je t'aime, je t'aime tellement."

[Mundy, I love you, I love you so much.]

Lucien tightened his grip on his lover and buried his head deeper, in the space between Mundy's neck and his shoulder. The Australian closed his eyes until he felt…

"Ooh…"

Lucien was gently kissing his lover's neck, licking the hot dripping water. Mundy arched his back and the Frenchman went to the tip of his toes. He delicately lapped at the skin before planting his teeth in, gently, and pressing. 

"Hsssss…"

Mundy hissed and tightened his grip on his lover's waist. Ah, the marksman's chest was marked by ferocious animal bites and claws but soon, his neck was covered by other marks… Mundy dug his nails in the Frenchman's skin and moaned more and more, his breath mixing with the hot steam. He slid a hand up against Lucien's head and another around his back to pull him impossibly closer to himself. The Frenchman smiled and he took Mundy by his hands, clenching his fingers in the Australian's. Suddenly, Lucien pushed Mundy hard against the wall, biting him harder and pinning his hands left and right. The Australian's back hit the wall with a thump and the taller man groaned louder. 

"This will leave some marks on your neck I'm afraid.", said the Frenchman calmly, his lips right below the Aussie's ear.

"I… You have marks in yer neck too."

"It is true. But mine will be hidden under my mask. "

"Mine will be too. I'll wear a scarf."

Lucien smirked and raised a malicious eyebrow, his hands still pinning Mundy to the wall and his fingers clenched hard. 

"Does that mean I can proceed at my leisure?"

Instantly, the Australian turned as red as a brick. He did not know what his lover had in mind but he wanted to find out. 

_ Bugger… I don't know what you want, luv', but go ahead. _

" _ Très bien," _ answered Lucien as if he had heard his partner's thoughts. 

The Frenchman left a quick kiss right below his lover's ear and let his tongue trail down Mundy's neck. He kissed and nibbled softly while the Australian shut his eyes and hissed in pleasure. Lucien slowly thrust forward with his hips and now Mundy was narrowly sandwiched between the wall and his lover. 

"Lu'...."

The Frenchman freed Mundy's hands and put a knee between his legs, to keep him pinned. He went to Mundy's ear while pushing his hips forward gently.

" _ J'aime tout chez toi, ta voix, ton regard, tes mots, mais ce qui me fait perdre la tête, c'est sentir ton corps sous mes doigts." _

_ [I love everything about you, your voice, your eyes, your words, but what makes me lose my mind is feeling your body under my fingers.] _

Myndy screwed his eyes shut. There was no oxygen in the air left, it was only thick steam, he couldn't breathe. His lips parted open but no sound came out, apart from short breaths. Lucien felt his lover's heart accelerate under his palm and released his hips.

_ "Tu ne peux pas t'échapper, mon bel amour, je te tiens et tu es à moi." _

_ [You can't escape, my beautiful love, I've got you and you are mine.] _

Mundy understood everything as Lucien purposefully spoke slowly. The Frenchman pressed his hips against his lover again.

"Ah-uh…. Lu'... Luv', if-if you continue… I'm gonna…"

Lucien smirked. 

_ "Que va-t-il se passer si je continue, hm? Peut-être veux-tu que je m'arrête?" _

_ [What will happen if I continue, hm? Perhaps you want me to stop?] _

He released his hips and his knee, and stood back. He was now standing such that he was holding Mundy against the wall with the palm of his hand on his chest. The Australian's shoulders relaxed and he lowered his head before saying, timidly:

"I… Yes, please stop."

Lucien opened wide, surprised eyes and removed his hand from Mundy's chest. He thought his lover would like it, but apparently not. There was a bit of disappointment in the Frenchman's eyes but he couldn't do something with Mundy that he didn't like. Non, he would never force him to do anything. The mere thought of him trying to do something that his lover hadn't liked disgusted him. He felt bad for trying without asking first.

"I do apologise mon amour, I will never do that again, I'm sorry."

Mundy raised his head and Lucien gasped. The Australian was smiling maliciously. He took Lucien by the shoulders and made them both spin so that the Frenchman was now the one against the wall.

"Oh?"

The Frenchman didn't have time to process what was happening. His lover took the step that separated them and bending down slightly, he growled to Lucien's ear. 

"I might be yours, but you are mine too."

The Frenchman's eyes snapped wide open again and before he could answer, Mundy made him spin around and pinned his hands to the wall. Lucien was laying flat, his stomach against the wall and Mundy behind him.

The Australian closed the gap and stuck his chest against the Frenchman's back. 

"Mon Dieu… Mundy…"

Lucien bit his lip as he felt the Australian licking the back of his neck and slowly turning to get to his ear. The water from the shower was noisy but not loud enough to cover up Mundy's growls as he lapped at the skin, pressing his hips against Lucien's backside.

"The touch of my body makes you crazy, huh? Well, your voice just blows my mind… Mmh…"

He licked the water dripping below Lucien's ear. 

"... It's like I'm not myself anymore, I can't think…"

He quickly put his lips on Lucien's neck and sucked while licking.

"Ooh, Mundy!"

The Australian felt the Frenchman move his hips back, to press himself harder against him. 

"... Mmmh, I just-I just become an animal, Lu'..."

Mundy wrapped his hands around his lover and pulled him strongly to himself and slightly upwards, unsticking him from the wall, as he dug his teeth gently in Lucien's neck and his nails in the skin, on the side. The Frenchman was delighted to feel his lover's arms lacing around him that strongly. He felt his feet slightly lose contact with the ground, he arched his back up and raised his arm to hold Mundy's hair. Lucien slid his fingers through his lover's wet hair and grasped firmly.

_ "Mon Dieu….!" _

The Frenchman struggled to breathe and when he managed to gather just enough air to speak, he said. 

"Mundy, mon amour, if I knew you were like this…!"

The Australian put his lover back to the ground and relaxed his grip. He went to Lucien's ear again. 

"I didn't know I could be like that either… It-It's you… I just want you too much sometimes and… And… I'm sorry."

Lucien's eyes snapped open in surprise as he felt his lover's hug from behind changed. It was not a ferocious hug anymore, it was… _ sad? _ Mundy rested his forehead on his lover's shoulder and Lucien felt his partner's breath go erratic. 

"Mundy…?"

No answer but his breath was still strange. Lucien spun around to face him. 

"Oh mon Dieu, mon amour…"

The taller man was covering his face with his hands, his back was hunched and he held his head low.

"Mon coeur..?"

[My sweetheart…?]

Still no answer. Lucien knew how hard words could be for his lover. He thus resorted to a wordless course of actions. He hugged his lover and pulled him under the shower head and that's when he felt it. The Frenchman's eyes snapped open. 

_ Il pleure… _

_ [He is crying…] _

Mundy raised his head and held his lover like a teddy bear while he dried his soul of his sorrow, the water from the shower washing his tears away. 

" _ Pourquoi tu pleures?" _

_ [Why do you cry?] _

The Australian did not answer, he needed to empty himself of… of what exactly? He had no idea. He just knew he needed to vent, and so he did. As the tears streamed down his face, he slowly came to realise why. 

"I-I'm sorry, love, I-I…"

"Ssshhhh. You don't need to say anything."

Mundy could not speak, he instead kept his thoughts to himself.

_ But I want to explain, I-I want to tell you why, I don't want you to think that I'm- _

"Half a man? Too sensitive? Not strong enough? Pfff… Mundy, mon amour… You should know by now that I love that in you, that and the rest."

The Frenchman put a hand behind Mundy's back and on the back of his neck, stroking gently. 

_ Thanks, luv'. But I'm crying because… Because I've never felt that before. I've loved people but I'd never had the chance to be with them. So I just-I just loved them in my head, from far away, from my van, through my scope… And now I'm discovering what it means to love someone, to really love and mate, it-it's strong…! _

"Of course it is, it is very strong mon amour."

_ You say it as if it's normal! Have you… Have you ever felt that before? _

"Oh oui, I have felt it twice. With  _ her _ , a long time ago, and with you now."

_ How did you survive when she left?! You must have felt… destroyed!? _

"Oh oui, utterly crumpled from the inside. See what you feel now? I felt exactly that but the other way around, if that makes sense. I felt as strongly as you do now but you feel overwhelmed with joy, oui?"

_ Y-yeah. _

"I felt like someone stabbed me repeatedly in my chest and through my skull. But that's beside the point."

Silence fell for a moment, silence only interrupted by the sound of the waterfall above their heads.

_ Lu'...? _

"Oui?"

_ I love you. _

"So do I, mon amour."

_ Please never leave me. _

Mundy hugged tighter. 

_ Please, never ever leave, please, I-I beg you. _

Lucien slid his hands on Mundy's cheeks, cupping his face and pulling him down such that their foreheads touched. The Australian kept his eyes shut. He did not want to cry, not in front of Lucien. He felt so ashamed. 

"Mon amour, regarde-moi."

[My love, look at me.]

_ No.  _

"S'il te plaît, if you don't do it for you, do it for me."

[Please.]

Mundy frowned harder but he felt Lucien's thumbs brushing his cheeks. His eyebrows relaxed and he slowly opened his eyes. He knew he looked miserable, he knew his eyes were red and slightly swollen. He nonetheless opened his eyes for one reason, and one reason only. Lucien had asked him to do it  _ for him. _ And so he obliged. Mundy opened his eyes and saw the man he fell for smiling tenderly, the eyes that read his thoughts looking at him with compassion. 

The Australian sniffed a couple of times. 

"Thanks luv', and uh… Sorry about this…"

Lucien smiled. 

"Don't apologise." 

_ \-- Later that day -- _

"Hey, fellas!"

Engie entered in the living room, followed by Pyro. Their colleagues were gathered there. Demo, Solly and Scout were watching the television while Medic, Heavy, Sniper and Spy were at the table nearby, sharing some drinks and chatting. All activities stopped and the mercs turned to face the short Texan. Demo put the volume of the TV down.

"I just got a message from the Admin, she said combat will start again tomorrow."

"Really?!", Scout asked, putting his soda on the coffee table. 

"Yeah, apparently she had some people clear the snow from the battlefield so it should be all clear for us tomorrow."

"But it's still freezing!", added Demoman, raising his bottle of  _ scrumpeh _ . 

"I know, but that's Admin orders…"

"Very well.", concluded Heavy. 

"Danke, Engineer."

"Yeah, thanks mate."

The mercenaries thanked their colleague who went back to his garage. 

"Ach, I guess that's the end of the holidays, eh?" said Medic as he sipped his beer. 

"Da. It will be hard tomorrow."

Heavy added, frowning. 

"I can't imagine why it would be hard fer ya, you're used to that weather, roight?", Sniper asked. 

"Weather is not hard. But we are not prepared in our heads for combat tomorrow, look at us. We are relaxing now and in less than 12 hours we will fight."

"You are right, Heavy. My mind is definitely not on fighting now.", Spy answered, sipping his wine, "But tomorrow is another day and I don't doubt the cold will make us think fast."

"Da, is true."

"Let's be grateful that we had those few days, ja?"

Medic raised his beer and his colleagues obliged. 3 beers and a glass of wine happily clinged, the glass ringing like a school bell for the end of recess.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and let me know what you thought of this one!

Special thanks to the discord crew and in particular to Deathtothecrows for his patience in editing this :) 

See y'all around!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	29. Chapter 29

Sniper took place in his nest. He looked around him as he put his rifle down, resting it against the wall next to the window. The battlefield was cleared of the snow and it was pushed into big piles here and there. The night was withdrawing and the shy beam of sunlight shone timidly. It was very early in the morning, but it mattered little for the Australian.

_ Ah, there's the crate, I should push it closer to the window… There, now I can sit.  _

"MISSION BEGINS IN THIRTY SECONDS."

The marksman readied himself. He adjusted the gloves Spy had offered him, flexing his knuckles and put his Machina in front of him.

_ Bugger, the snow.  _

Of course, if the roads and the ground in general were cleared of the snow, the windowsill wasn't. Sniper brushed it with his sleeve and it fell with a thud on the ground, one floor below.

The shack was cold and he could see his breath but he was too focused to feel it. Also, Spy's gloves were working wonders on his fingers. Sniper was fiddling with the trigger under his index as he closed one eye to take his aim, waiting for the Administrator to count down to the beginning of the round. 

"5… 4…"

Moving the scope rapidly to make a note of everyone's whereabouts, Sniper saw Engie with his contraptions, Pyro next to him. Soldier had rocket jumped on a lamp post to have a better view of the battlefield. Medic sent an arrow his way to compensate for the damage he inflicted himself.

" 3… 2…" 

Sniper aligned his scope with the BLU gates again.

"1… BEGIN!"

The gates opened and Sniper took a first shot as soon as the metal door vanished from between him and the enemy marksman. 

_ Headshot. _

He reloaded and looked outside of the scope for a quick scan through the battlefield. The BLU Medic popped uber on his Heavy and Sniper saw his teammates fall one by one, mowed down by the Russian's deadly minigun. He gritted his teeth and counted down the longest eight seconds he had ever the misfortune to spend. 

_ BOOM! _

As soon as the uber faded, both the enemy Heavy and Medic fell with the same bullet. The Australian smiled proudly although he knew that because of that uber, the RED were now outnumbered and defenseless as their sentry had fallen. He looked around and couldn't see his BLU counterpart, so he proceeded and tried to take shots at the other members of the BLU team while his teammates respawned. 

Soldier was the first one to come back to the front.

"Sniper on the right!"

Soldier shouted and the marksman's sightline shifted swiftly. 

"Where?!"

"Front right corner Snipes!", Scout answered. 

"Bugger, I can't see him, roight I'll mov-AAARGH!"

The BLU man in a suit had found him before he could finish his sentence and Sniper sank to the floor, lifeless, a blade in his back. His cry echoed painfully in the rest of the team's ears but especially in Spy's who frowned and gritted his teeth. 

_ He uses his machina which means that everyone knows his position, especially the BLU Spy… _

A few seconds afterwards, Sniper respawned. He equipped his razorback and exited the spawn room. The BLU had progressed quite a bit, but it was still very possible for the RED to win. The marksman chose a different shooting spot and readied himself. He adjusted his scarf so that it didn't get in the way and took aim. 

The first enemy who crossed his sightline was the BLU Demoman. He took the shot easily and… 

_ Wait what?! Who's the second person who got shot?! _

His earpiece rang with the sound of a penetrative shot but he couldn't see who he shot through, on top of the Demo. 

_ Bah, must be a mistake… _

"I am fully charged!" shouted the enemy Medic. Upon hearing that sentence, Sniper's scope scanned through the battlefield to try and find the German doctor and get him before he flipped the switch on his medigun. 

_ BOOM! _

Sniper took a shot but the BLU Medic must have popped at the same time. The Medic jumped as he popped and he got pushed back by the recoil from Sniper's bullet without dying, as he was turning bright blue. 

_ Bugger! I would have thought Spy would maybe get him before I do, but neither of us made it…  _

The BLU pushed powerfully through RED territory while some of them continued pushing the cart. They managed to push through two checkpoints before being completely stopped. Sniper had changed nests for one that further at the back. 

_ Need to be more aggressive, and more focused.  _

The Australian readied his rifle and took a deep breath. He looked through his scope, every fibre of his body burning with anticipation to take a shot. He waited for the enemy to push the cart and take the turn, that way, they would be facing him and sufficiently far away to cause very little trouble to him. 

_ Ah! They're comin'! _

The cart appeared, along with the BLU team. Sniper shot repeatedly and the enemies fell. The penetrative shot sound rang repeatedly in his earpiece. 

_ What?! Those were clearly not penetrative shots, what the bloody hell is happenin'? _

Not all the shots were headshots unfortunately, but it proved to be just about what was needed to send the BLU back to respawn, with the help of his colleagues. He was about to shoot again when he felt a cold metallic object at the back of his head. 

"Monsieur le Sniper…"

[Mister Sniper…]

_ Bastard. _

The BLU Spy had found him again, which wasn't that surprising to be fair. After the killing spree he's been on, Sniper had attracted a fair bit of attention. The marksman dropped his rifle and put it on the windowsill slowly. 

"Turn around. I want you to plant this bullet between your beautiful eyes."

Sniper's eyes widened in surprise. 

_ Beautiful…? _

The Australian turned and faced his enemy, he squinted at the sight of the gun's barrel pointing between his eyes.

"There, ya got what you want. Now shoot me and we're done with it."

The BLU Frenchman smirked and his blue eyes shone fiercely. Looking at him more closely, Sniper realised how different he was from  _ his _ spy. The BLU one had dirty blond eyebrows and his face was more square-shaped than his RED counterpart. He took a step forward and removed Sniper's earpiece, crushing it under his heel.

"Oi-!"

"Why would I not take my time and enjoy this a bit, hm?"

"Enjoy what?"

The BLU Spy took the step that separated him from Sniper. He slid a hand behind the Australian's back. 

"Oi! What are you-?!"

"I'm getting rid of this…"

The BLU Spy took the kukri and dropped it down. 

"You coward, you want to take me down defenseless?"

The masked man smirked. 

"Sniper, we are starting to know each other, non?"

"What?!"

"How many times have I backstabbed you? You've certainly lost count. And how many times did you make my skull pop? Likewise. We target each other and yet, we know so little about each other, don't you think?"

"What the bloody hell are ya on about?! I'm a RED, you're a BLU, we're hired to kill each other, not to chat, so pull the trigger and get it done already."

The BLU Spy raised his eyes to look at the taller man, lowering the gun down. He was but a few inches from his face. 

" _ Non. _ I want to get to know you."

"Why?"

"Why  _ not?" _

Sniper sighed. 

"Fer the love of God, I'm tired and I got work to do so either ya pull that bloody trigger and we move on or I'll punch you to death with my bare hands!"

"Ah! Since you bring the matter up, tell me more about them."

Sniper was confused and raised an eyebrow. 

"What are ya on about now, ya bloody crazed piker!?"

"Look at your hands! The gloves you wear, they're new. They're new and expensive, I can tell you that. But you're not a man of that taste, filthy jar-man. Therefore, they must come from someone else, a  _ loved one maybe?" _

Sniper blushed. 

"Tell me her name, please."

His blush disappeared and his face relaxed. There was no lady in his life, so the BLU Spy could look for one as long as he waited, it wouldn't be any problem. 

"Just shoot, alroight?"

"No lady? It's clearly not family as I did notice the pink in your cheeks when I mentioned your lover. Oh wait… If it's not a lady, then it's a…"

Sniper's whole body tensed up and he felt cornered. His face turned red as a brick and his heart beat hard and fast in his temples. He clenched his jaw.

" _ Mon Dieu!  _ It  _ is  _ a man!"

"Shut up and just kill me!"

The BLU Frenchman burst into a devilish, most cruel laughter. Mundy threw his fist forward but the Frenchman dodged it and twisted the Australian's hand unto an armlock.

"Hahahaha! Oh mon Dieu, you Sniper, you will never cease to amaze me!"

He calmed down. 

"Let me go, ya bloody useless son of a- argh!"

The BLU Frenchman tightened the armlock and Sniper arched his back in pain. 

"You interest me more and more filthy jar-man. Is the object of your love someone around here?"

"SHUT UP AND KILL ME!"

Sniper roared, screwing his eyes shut. The pain in his arm was unbearable and it was completely paralysing him. Besides, knowing how bad he was at lying, he knew it was useless of him to even try and hide the truth. The BLU Spy would instantly see it was only a badly told lie. Oh how Sniper wished his BLU counterpart could pierce his skull with a bullet at that moment…! 

"He  _ is?! _ Oh! How exciting! Now, let's think. Who could you have got infatuated with? The obvious answer would be  _ me,  _ of course. But I didn't offer you that pair of gloves. And judging by their quality, there is only one other person around here who could have got such a present for you." 

"Shut up, you disgrace!"

The RED Spy uncloaked before Sniper's eyes, his Ambassador on his BLU counterpart's temple. 

"You're a disappointment to spies everywhere! Now drop your weapon!"

Sniper's jaw dropped. 

_ Where the hell did he come from?! How could he know I was in trouble when the bastard destroyed my earpiece?! _

The BLU masked man slowly lowered his gun off Sniper's face and turned his head to look at Spy. 

"Ooh, and you have a new mask? Mmmh! I see how-"

_ BOOM! _

"You got blood on my revolver,  _ enfoiré _ ." 

[Son of a...]

The BLU Spy's corpse fell on the ground limply. Lucien took a handkerchief out of his pocket and tried to clean the mess he's created on his revolver. 

"Bloody hell… I-... Thank you, mate, but how did ya…?"

Lucien put his revolver back in his inner pocket and watched as the corpse disappeared from the ground. 

"I was here all along."

"Where?"

"On the windowsill."

"What?!"

"The shots you took were indeed penetrative shots. I was cloaked and you were shooting through me, sitting on the windowsill." 

"Wait you mean you were sitting here  _ all the time?!" _

"Oui."

"B-but?"

Lucien came closer to the window and lit a cigarette. The Australian followed him with his eyes. The Frenchman elegantly exhaled and the smoke from his cigarette whirled in the crispy cold wind.

"There was no sentry to sap and you were taking care of everyone perfectly. The team could do without me." 

"No! How could ya- No! We're not a team if you choose to not work! We're outnumbered!"

"We were perfectly fine and don't worry, if we ever were in trouble, I would of course go and stab a few backs." 

Mundy sighed in relief and smiled. The Frenchman picked up the rifle from the ground and handed it to the marksman, who took it from his hands. As he did so, he lowered his head and saw his own gloves.

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"That other Spy, he knows for us, roight?"

Lucien's face changed from relaxed to annoyed. 

"Oui, he knows."

"Do you-d'you think it's a problem?"

The Frenchman raised his eyes to look at his lover's.

" _ Do you?" _

"Uh, ah… I mean… I don't care. I just think that the BLU might use it against us. They now know that if they get to me, you'll come running to help."

"I might indeed. Even if the respawn system works, I can't stand your cries as you…  _ fall. _ Besides, now that he knows about us and knowing how cruel he turns out to be, he might play with your nerves with it."

Mundy shrugged. 

"It's fine, I can deal with him."

"Non, you can't."

"What?"

"You can't punch, not even a fly. I need to teach you. Your technique is non existent, you punch out of rage, to let it go out, but you know nothing of close combat."

Lucien sighed and crushed his cigarette butt on the windowsill. 

"I'll go to work now. I'll make sure he doesn't get to you ever again."

"Spoo-"

"And tonight, we shall start the close combat training."

Seeing how determined and serious Lucien was, Mundy did not dare speak back, and simply nodded. The Frenchman came closer to Mundy and cupped his cheek with his hand, smiling, albeit sadly, and brushing his thumb against Mundy's rough cheek.

"I was so close to losing you before my own eyes. I should have reacted faster, but I wanted to know how much he knew. Now, we know. He knows it all."

Mundy smiled back, trying to ignore the sadness in Lucien's voice. 

"Nah, it's fine. There's still respawn and that's the job, y'know. Don't worry about me, Lu'. Just go and give them hell, ok?"

Lucien lowered his head and nodded. He took a step back and resumed his professional, cold-blooded behaviour.

"I'll see you later,  _ Sniper." _

"Yeah, Spook."

_ \-- Later that day, after the battle -- _

Lucien was in his suite. He had taken a shower and was dressing up. The Frenchman was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the knot on his tie when the door knocked. 

_ Ah, that knock isn't Mundy's. _

Spy put his mask and his gloves on as he walked to the door, and opened it. 

"Ah, Engie.  _ Bonsoir. _ "

[Good evening.]

"Hey, pardner. May I…?"

The Frenchman found it a bit odd that his colleague wanted to come in. After all, the Texan man respected Lucien's privacy to the point of having put an opaque cloth on his cat door and letting him use his tools as he wished, without ever asking a single question. Spy let him in. 

"But of course."

"Thanks."

The shorter man took a few steps in but nonetheless stayed close to the door. 

"Pray take a seat."

"Nah, it's fine, I just want to give you this privately, the Admin insisted I did, so there you go."

Engie handed Spy a brown envelope. The Frenchman took it and nodded.

"I'll leave ya now."

"Merci, Engie."

"No problem." 

The door closed and Lucien went to the sofa. He sat down, in front of the dancing flames of the fireplace and scanned through the letter. 

"Mmmh. Très bien."

[Mmmh. Very well.]

The Frenchman threw the empty envelope in the fire and folded the letter, putting it in his inside pocket. He lightly tapped on it and got out of his suite, decidedly walking to teach Sniper how to fight.

\--  _ A few minutes later -- _

Next to Engie's garage was a training room. It was rarely used by Sniper or Spy but anyone had access to it. Spy pushed the door and entered. The air was still in the room and it was quite cold. The Frenchman was about to switch on the lights when he felt the air move next to him.

A hand came around his waist and an another on his mouth, in an attempt to paralyse him. Spy smirked. 

_ Oh, the lesson started already? _

He knocked his elbow back into Sniper's stomach which was enough to surprise the Australian who thought he had an advantage on his lover. The knock destabilised him just enough that Spy managed to escape his  _ assailant _ 's grip, spin around and be the one that's now paralysing him with an armlock. 

"Argh!"

The Frenchman flipped the light switch quickly and the Australian squinted at the sudden flash of light. 

" _ Bien essayé,  _ but you were way too loud, I heard you coming from behind, thus I knew what you were going to do."

[Good try]

Spy released Sniper's arm and the latter hissed out of pain. 

"Roight, roight…" 

"Also, may I add that on other circumstances, I would not have reacted this way…"

Sniper caught his breath and turned to face his combat instructor. 

"What d'you mean…? Oh…"

Seeing how Spy was wiggling his eyebrows, the Australian understood what the Frenchman was hinting at and blushed. 

"But that's not today's concern. I will teach you how to defend yourself, Mundy. Come here."

Both men walked to the center of the room. 

"Have you ever fought before?"

"Well, in pubs a couple times…"

"I meant against the BLU Spy, or any other qualified fighter."

"Nah, not with my bare hands."

"Have you ever been given instructions on how to proceed?"

"Nah."

"I knew that already, but it's good to confirm it. Good. I will thus have the pleasure to work on a blank canvas, so to speak."

Sniper nodded and Spy started an endless lesson. It began with some general considerations. Where does it hurt most? Why does it hurt there? The Frenchman's explanations were illustrated on Mundy's body. Lucien pointed at the different locations, pressing sometimes, flexing, contracting and lightly twisting his lover's body parts as if it was a puppet. 

How to punch and kick? Again, Lucien showed his student and asked him to repeat the movements, again and again, until the technique was correct. All the questions that Mundy hadn't even thought about found their answers in the long explanations that the Frenchman gave. His lover paid very close attention to all of it and he found himself in the same position he was in, a few weeks before, during the wine tasting lessons. He enjoyed listening to Lucien's voice and he turned out to be an excellent teacher, very clear and patient. He would sometimes stop and ask if Mundy was still following him, or he would do that trick that he had used countless times in his very old teaching days where he would start a sentence and let it hang, waiting for his student to complete it. Mundy simply loved learning from him and Lucien loved sharing the few things he knew with his lover. 

When the theory was done, Lucien asked his lover to punch him. 

"Go ahead with a direct hit."

"But, Lu'-?"

"No 'buts', please, just do it."

The Australian wrapped his hands around himself and lowered his head.

"I-I can't."

Lucien sighed and frowned. 

"Wait, I have an idea." 

The Frenchman put a hand in his inner pocket and got his cigarette case out. 

"Close your eyes, Mundy."

"What? You're gonna hit me with my eyes shut now?!"

"Non, trust me."

"Roight…" 

Mundy closed his eyes and frowned. He wanted to trust Lucien but he feared what he could come up with. 

" _ Monsieur le Sniper." _

Sniper's eyes snapped open and he felt a drop of cold sweat trail down his spine. He recognised that voice. 

"You bastard."

There he was, the BLU Spy, standing in front of him. 

"Your eyes are even more beautiful when you don't hide them behind your glasses,  _ mon cher." _

[My dear]

Mundy put a hand in front of his eyes quickly, like a reflex, and realised his opponent had snatched his glasses off his very nose! The BLU Spy removed the hand he had behind his back and let the pair of sunglasses hang from the extremity of his fingers, swinging them in the air. Sniper's jaw dropped. He felt naked, naked and alone. He knew it was Lucien in front of him, in a disguise, he  _ knew it. _ But his eyes and ears were telling him otherwise. The Frenchman took a step forward and extended his hand.

"So, are we going to stand here all day or when will you decide to _ dance with me?" _

Sniper clenched his jaw and threw his punch forward. His opponent dodged it easily. 

"And the gloves you wear, did  _ he  _ offer them to you?"

"Shut up!"

Another fist flew but didn't meet its target. 

"Or did you just pay him so that he gets them for you, hm?"

Sniper was now properly angry. He took a few steps forward and lunged at his opponent. The BLU Frenchman slid his shoe on the floor elegantly to the right and the Australian missed again. 

"Haahahaha! Is this the game you play with him? You pay  _ your Spy _ to do your own shopping?! Hahahahaa!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Again, the Australian wanted to punch but he remembered what Lucien had just told him. His eyes shot quickly to the Spy's shoes and he saw that we was about to take a step on the right. He feigned a punch on the left and, spinning, he threw his leg and this time, it did hit! 

The Frenchman took the blow but managed to block it with his arm. He smiled fiercely.

"There we go _ , mon chaton!" _

_ [My kitten!] _

Lucien broke the imitation for an instant and Mundy opened wide eyes. It weirded him out to see the BLU Spy but hear Lucien's voice. And that provided enough of surprise to the Australian for him to receive a punch to the stomach without being able to dodge. 

"Don't let anything surprise you, keep focused, now, try again!"

Mundy put a hand on his stomach and pressed to ease the pain which wasn't as strong as he would have thought. But then again, Lucien had said that because of the adrenaline, one almost always feels more pain after combat that during. 

" _ So, Monsieur le Sniper, I imagine you like him, your Spy?" _

Mundy gritted his teeth. He would not leave before making that bastard eat his very teeth!

"Shut up Frenchie and c'mere!"

Punches and kicks were exchanged, and as the session progressed, the Australian applied what his lover had taught him better. He focused more too, to the point where his opponent's taunts were deafened and Mundy could only hear Lucien's voice that repeated the instructions he had given him earlier in his head. 

"Ha! You love him! You are infatuated with the man! But what do you find in him that you don't in me? He's an ugly, filthy, lying son of a-"

Mundy blinked and shook his head as if to zone back to reality. 

"SHUT…!"

_ Direct hit to his stomach.  _

"UP!"

_ And kick to the chin! _

The Frenchman took the blows but the last one threw Lucien back, jerking his head up, a trail of blood springing upwards, and he lost his balance. He fell on the floor, on his back. Mundy dived down and held the poor bruised man by his collar, lifting his head and upper chest. He was outraged and gritted his teeth, his eyes under such strain that he felt they would pop out of his head. His mouth was almost foaming with anger.

"NEVER TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!"

He punched his face with his right fist.

"D'YOU HEAR ME?!"

Left fist.

"NEVER!"

Right fist.

"OR I'LL MAKE SURE NO RESPAWN WILL BRING YOU BACK TO LIFE!"

Mundy released the Frenchman's collar and his head fell, hitting the floor with a bang. The Australian stood on his feet and turned his back to his opponent for a second to catch his breath. 

"Mon amour…?"

Mundy's eyes snapped open. He looked down and all of a sudden he realised that the man he'd been beating was none other than his beloved Frenchman.

"Oh bugger, I-I'm sorry, luv', let me help…!"

He knelt down and helped his lover to sit up. Lucien's nose was bleeding and the blood was dripping down his chin. 

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… I mean it was him, not you!"

Lucien smiled and put his fingers under his nose. 

"It is fine. I underestimated your strength, Bushman! You definitely punched harder than I thought you could. And that last kick…! My chin will remember it. Thank God I didn't bite my tongue or uh…"

Mundy put a hand in his lover's inner pocket to get his handkerchief, he took it out but the letter that the Frenchman had folded there fell on the ground. 

"Oh, whot's that then?" said the Australian as he picked up the folded piece of paper. The Frenchman put a hand on the bridge of his nose. Any physical pain caused by the punches and kicks disappeared. He answered, mumbling to himself, while he watched his lover unfold the letter. 

" _ Merde…" _

Lucien felt the adrenaline shoot in his body as Mundy's eyes scanned the paper. The Frenchman felt as if he was about to take a slap across the face. His heartbeat accelerated and he sweated heavily while Mundy's eyes grew wider and wider after each word written on the letter. The Australian's jaw dropped.

_ Merde. _ , the Frenchman thought.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading!

Mega thanks to everyone on the Discord and Crows for his editing :)

See y'all around for 29! :)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	30. Chapter 30

Lucien waited for Mundy to finish reading the letter. The Frenchman was still sitting on the floor and his lover was crouching, facing him. It wasn't a long paragraph, the Administrator was a lady of  _ very _ few words afterall. 

"I wanted to talk to you about this."

Mundy's eyes moved away from the letter and to his lover's eyes. The Australian had opened wide eyes and his lips were trembling. The thin paper between his fingers was shaking.

"Lu'... That means that…"

The Frenchman sighed and lowered his head.

"You're leaving…! You're… leaving _ me…" _

The Frenchman wiped the blood on his upper lip with the back of his hand and stared at the ground, between his legs.

"Only if I behave like an idiot again."

"No, that's not what it says here!"

Silence fell and Mundy too, on his knees. Lucien resumed his speech. 

"I should have killed him before the BLU Spy said any of that. It's my fault. I ruined it all."

Lucien covered his eyes with his hand.

"Shut up!"

Mundy threw himself on his lover and hugged him tightly. 

"Shut up, shut the bloody hell up! I-I can't let you go… You-you're the only thing that works, I-I can't be without you…"

"Mundy, I did something stupid and I am paying for it. The Administrator is very clear. She gives me one last chance on one condition…"

Lucien felt his lover's chest tremble against him. 

_ He is crying.  _

"... We must go back to being only colleagues."

The taller man burst into tears, squeezing Lucien in his arms, digging his nails deep in his jacket and his nose in the Frenchman's neck. The latter felt his lover's tears on his neck, he felt the despair. He bit his lips and that's when he noticed it. 

_ I am… crying? _

He lowered his head and, screwing his eyes shut as if to make sure that this way, no one could see him, he let it all go and the tears flow.

Long minutes passed in the training room where for both of them, it felt like time had stopped. Planet Earth had stopped orbiting the sun, the Moon hung in the sky, paralysed and incapable of orbiting the Earth. Paralysed and incapable of doing anything like Lucien and Mundy. They were now lying on the floor, bruised and scarred but it didn't matter. The were lying next to each other, staring at the ceiling and crying silently. They were holding hands, gripping firmly and tightly. Only the deaf buzz of the lights in the training room was disturbing the peace, that, and their occasional sniffs. Both mercenaries were lying, side by side on the cold concrete floor as if they were lying in their graves, waiting to be discovered a thousand years later by lucky archeologists. Both thought they might as well die on the spot. 

That letter had taken a decision for both of them. It read:

_ To the RED Spy, _

_ Your behaviour goes against the terms of your contract according to which no friendship will be tolerated. I will ask you to abide by your contract or you will be fired. _

_ The Administrator. _

\--  _ Later, Mundy's van -- _

The Australian had gone back to his van. He put the bag he had packed up quickly on the floor and started the small electric heater. He looked around him and let his shoulders sink when his eyes met with the spot where his old kukri used to be on the wall. The spot was empty of course and it hurt. He opened his old bag and took the new one out. It hurt to hang it on the wall.

_ Monday's Light. _

As he hung it, he let his fingertips run on the engravings and every little asperity sliced through his heart. He looked at his bag again, and thought that he needed to unpack. But he didn't have the strength for it. Nah. 

Mundy climbed on his bed and lied down. He sniffed. He couldn't believe it. The man in the van had found someone who wanted him as much as he wanted them. He had finally found him. After more than thirty years of solitude, of being misunderstood, of being rejected, of locking himself up  _ in himself _ , of driving his pain in his van from one place to another. Finally. Finally someone understood him, someone  _ cared. _ And he went from hating the thought of sharing even a meal with someone, to being addicted to him. This man.  _ His own man. _ Oh, he had abandoned the thought of finding someone to share his days and nights with. Ah, the nights… Mundy screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip hard. 

He was lying in his bed. He hadn't eaten anything. He had no will for anything but for that horrible day to end. He looked at the window. He couldn't see anything through it as the light from the lamp on the desk was reflected off of it. He had let it on, he couldn't sleep any other way. Could he even fall asleep? He needed to, yeah, he wouldn't be able to be in a good condition for combat the next day if he didn't sleep. But could he sleep? Sleeping meant losing contact with reality and as much as he wanted reality to not exist at all, it also meant waking up the next day to a cold-blooded Lu-...

Mundy turned to now have the window in his back, letting his tears flow on his cheek. It wasn't Lucien anymore, it was  _ Spy. _

The Australian screwed his eyes shut and cried, his pillow absorbing the tears. That's how he would fall asleep, he just had to cry himself to sleep. How many times had he done that? He just knew that it would work and was sort of doubly efficient. On one hand, he would vent his sadness and on the other, it would help him to find the rest he needed. 

"Hoo?"

Mundy's eyes opened. His feathery companion was in front of him, staring with his big round eyes.

_ He's gone, Hootsy… He's gone now. Lucien's gone. It's back to just you and me.  _

The night bird blinked and sat on his master's pillow next to him, watching as he cried and cried, wringing himself continuously. His eyes hurt, his head ached and his chest… In that moment, he wished the BLU Spy could plant his knife between his shoulder blades and not respawn. He clenched his fists and cried more. When was the last time he had spent that long crying? He couldn't even remember. But wait, why did it feel different this time? He'd been through countless break-ups, never being the one who chose it, but it had never hurt that much. So, why? Well, very simple. He  _ loved _ Lucien, not like other blokes. Nah. He loved him more, he loved him better. Before, he would look at some men and be genuinely impressed by their looks, fair enough. But he knew he could not get closer to them. How on Earth could he? He was shy and awkward and had no experience in those things. Nah… And even with Sheilas. It was always them who took the first step. So the only choice he had when he met with a man he found  _ interesting _ was to just play friendly and try to hide his blush...

Mundy felt a cold gust of wind. He wrapped himself tighter under the blanket. He cried less and less as the train of his thought continued to flow.

_ Bugger, I can smell his cologne and his cigarettes. It's like he's with me. _

His breath steadied slowly as he didn't realise it, but Mundy was falling asleep.

" _ Monsieur le Sniper." _

_ [Mister Sniper.] _

The Australian turned his back and opened wide eyes. 

"FUCK YOU!"

The shy man lost his temper and jumped at the BLU Frenchman's throat. He pinned him to the ground powerfully, his fingers squeezing his throat under the fabric of the mask with one hand and punched his face, again and again, relentlessly. 

"BECAUSE OF YOU!"

_ Punch. _

"HE'S GONE!"

_ Punch, his nose cracked under the blow. _

"YOU BLOODY…"

_ Punch. The blood started flowing on his lip and he felt some teeth pop under his knuckles. _

"PIECE OF SHIT…"

The final punch made a piece of white cardboard fly, along with a tooth. Mundy stopped and watched as a thin cloud of smoke faded. It was a only a mask. The man that Mundy had just beaten to a pulp was Lucien. 

"Bugger… Bugger… Bugger…"

He held him close to himself and hugged him there. 

"Why d'you have to leave… Why…? I-I love ya, Lu', I really do! How can I make you understand?"

He was holding his unconscious and bleeding lover in his arms, rocking him back and forth in his trembling arms. 

_ "Je t'aime, je t'aime Lu', je t'aime!" _

[I love you, I love you Lu', I love you!]

He repeated again and again, with his very thick accent. He had no time and energy to try and hide it. Mundy looked down and bit his lip in remorse. Lucien was still unconscious and in a very bad state. 

"Bugger… Bugger… Bugger… I'm a monster, I'm a freak, a monster…"

He looked down again and his lover had vanished from his arms. Mundy looked left and right but everything was dark, too dark. He heard a whistle coming from behind him. He turned around and saw the silhouette of a man in a suit. 

"Lu', I'm sorry, luv', I'm sorry fer-!"

"Go away, Bushman, I have work to do."

The Australian looked around. He started hearing gunshots and everything around him went from dark blue to orange. Badwater, it was Badwater. 

"3… 2… 1… BEGIN!"

The gates flashed open, Lucien ran forward and, passing next to Mundy, he shoved him with his elbow. The marksman unscoped, his shoulder sinking down. It had hurt inside. That shove meant 'get out of my way', 'you're a burden'. Mundy had hardly had time to process what just happened that he felt the pain he now knew too well, in his back. That acute, bolt of aching surging from behind his back and propagating like lightning through his limbs. He looked down at his chest and saw the stain of blood on his red polo shirt grow wider and wider. He waited for the moment his legs would give up and he would collapse, but it wasn't coming. Here he was, standing in the middle of rockets, grenades and bullets shooting past, whistling under his ears. Mundy had a blade planted in his back but he was not dying. 

"ARGH!"

The BLU Frenchman had suddenly materialised before his eyes and, jumping to get some speed, he planted another blade on the Australian's chest. It hurt, it physically hurt, but he still didn't collapse. 

"DIE FILTHY JAR-MAN!"

The Frenchman, infuriated, took his revolver out and emptied his magazine in Mundy's chest. As if it was but a cardboard target, the Australian's flesh absorbed the bullets but didn't flinch. Blood sprang out of him, spattering his clothes. He put a hand on his soaked shirt and looked down at his finger. His blood was thick and cold.

"I… I am already dead."

The marksman closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he gasped. He saw his body, lying lifeless in the Medibay on a cold metal table, only covered with a white sheet up to his neck. 

"I am sorry, Spy. There is nothing respawn or I could do.", said Medic, putting his hand on his French colleague's shoulder. Mundy saw all of it happen as if he was a mouse in the room. He watched and what he saw pained him. Lucien brushed away Medic's hand from his shoulder and said, with his distinctive French accent:

"I do not care."

These four words hurt more than all the bullets, knives, claws and bites that the Australian had ever taken. He closed his eyes in pain. But when he opened them again, he got struck. Everything was darkness around him and he suddenly heard:

" _ Quand il me prend dans ses bras, _

_ [When he holds me in his arms,] _

_ Qu'il me parle tout bas,  _

_ [When he whispers in my ear,] _

_ Je vois la vie en rose. _

_ [I see life in pink.]" _

Mundy lost his breath. He opened wide eyes as he saw a faint source of light spread its millions warm photons like butterflies around him. He was back in Spy's suite and the Frenchman was singing.

_ "Il me dit des mots d'amour, _

_ [He tells me words of love,] _

_ Des mots de tous les jours, _

_ [Ordinary words,] _

_ Et ça me fait quelque chose. _

_ [And it moves something in me.]" _

The Australian felt his stomach tighten as he recognised the song instantly. It was  _ La Vie en Rose _ by Edith Piaf, one of Lucien's - argh  _ Spy's _ \- favourite songs. The Frenchman spun on his heels gracefully and the tune changed. 

" _ J'irais jusqu'au bout du monde, _

_ [I would go till the end of the world,] _

_ Je me ferais teindre en blond, _

_ [I would dye my hair to be blond,] _

_ Si tu me le demandais. _

_ [If you just asked me to.] _

_ J'irais décrocher la lune, _

_ [I would take the moon out of the sky,] _

_ J'irais voler la fortune, _

_ [I would steal money and luck,] _

_ Si tu me le demandais. _

_ [If you just asked me to.]" _

It was another of Piaf's songs, Mundy knew it because she was the only singer he knew who could purr softly instead of pronouncing the hard French "r". Lucien could do that too.  _ Oh, his purrs… _ Mundy took a step forward to hear Spy better. For some reason, the Frenchman was singing very low, in whispers. He faced him and let his gloved finger on Mundy's cheek. The taller man relaxed under that soft touch that he now desperately longed for. Part of him wanted to grab that hand and cling to it but deep down, Mundy knew it would only hurt more. Instead, he just leant his head in for more.

_ "Je renierais ma patrie, _

_ [I would renounce and abandon my country] _

_ Je renierais mes amis, _

_ [I would renounce to see any friends] _

_ Si tu me le demandais. _

_ [If you just asked me]" _

Lucien's finger was tracing loops and circles on Mundy's rough skin, and the now forbidden touch felt so intense that Mundy could not keep his eyes open. He screwed them shut and focused hard on trying to make that moment last, trying to remember the feeling.

_ "On peut bien rire de moi, _

_ [They can laugh at me] _

_ Je ferais n'importe quoi, _

_ [I would do whatever you want] _

_ Si tu me le demandais _

_ [If you just asked me to.]" _

Spy was stroking Mundy's cheek with the back of his index finger delicately and even with his eyes shut, the Australian knew that the Frenchman was looking at him with his bewitching eyes. Somehow, Mundy understood all the lyrics as if he'd been speaking French all his life. And it warmed his heart. How he liked hearing soft words whispered in his ears, and with what voice…? None other than  _ his Lu's.  _ The Frenchman soon stopped singing. Mundy opened his eyes in his dream and saw his lover's face smile. It was that sad smile that made him irresistible, that face that said how much he yearned for him, but without words. Mundy watched in silence, as the Frenchman finally whispered, as he vanished in a thin cloud of cigarette smoke:

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

_ \-- Spy's suite, ealier -- _

Lucien smiled sadly. He had taken a shower, cleaned his bruises and was staring at himself in the mirror. He, who thought he would never love again, who thought he would finish his contract for Mann Co., go back to France and rot in a flat in Paris, waiting for his hour to come. Non. Life had yet another disappointment in store for him. But as usual, life would first shoot him to heaven, let it taste the fruits there, how sweet they were, before grabbing him by his throat tightly and pulling him down with a force he could not rival. It would pull him down and smash his body against the hard concrete of reality, his bones shattering in smithereens as if they were made of crystal, and his skull resonating with the pain surging everywhere. He wished he could tear open his ribcage and take out his heart, shoot a bullet through it and live the rest of his life emotionless. Emotions cost too much, it cost him all his energy, all his life force. And now he was out of it all. 

Life had once again manipulated him like a slave. Life had said 'go to Mann Co', and he obeyed. Life had said 'fall in love' with Sniper, and he did. Life had said 'play the spy again, like the good old days', and he did. And now life was laughing. 

_ Je t'ai bien eu! _

_ [Ha! Gotcha!] _

The Frenchman exited his bathroom and went straight to his bed. Dinner? Bah, the simple thought of food made him gag. Non, he needed to close his eyes and fall asleep. He laid under the blanket but couldn't sleep. He felt alone in the world. Mundy's side of the bed was empty. It scared him somehow. He switched on the lamp on his nightstand, to chase away the anxiety. He felt ridiculous. He, a grown up man, he needed a light to go through the night. Pfff… If he couldn't sleep alone, how could he kill people? 

Lucien grabbed a cushion and hugged it, his eyes locked on Mundy's pillow, in front of him. He sniffed once and blinked. He stared at the empty pillow and closed his eyes. He felt Mundy's callous hand on his cheek. It made him frown and he closed his eyes harder, his mouth twisting in a painful grimace. He frowned intensely and sniffed again. The ball in his throat was burning and pushing his tongue up. The Frenchman gritted his teeth harder and harder, swallowing painfully. He was trying his best not to cry again. Enough tears had been spent already.

_ Merde, j'ai besoin de prendre l'air.  _

[ _ Shit, I need some fresh air.] _

He slipped out of his bed and dressed up. He didn't want anyone to see him so he made sure to have his Cloak and Dagger with him. He tapped his pockets, making sure he had his cigarettes and his lighter. He nodded to himself and got out of his suite. The Frenchman walked through the corridor, cloaked and wrapped his scarf around his neck. He opened the base's main door and stepped outside. Spy leant against the front door as he closed it and sighed. It was cold outside, but he didn't mind. Actually, he was surprised he could feel it. Lucien lit a cigarette and looked at the sky. As dark as blue could be, with some stars sprinkling the infinite blanket that God had thrown over his head. He puffed some smoke out and his eyes sank slowly down. That's when he saw it. 

_ Le camping car.  _

_ [The van.] _

Lucien gulped painfully. He saw the faint light through the window. It wasn't the main light, no, it was too dim. It must have been a night lamp.

_ Oserais-je? _

_ [Dare I?] _

He stared at the window. He was cloaked. Mun- uh… Sniper wouldn't see him. But would it help? Naturally it would  _ not. _ It would hurt. Lucien hoped he could see see Mun- _ argh! Sniper! His name is Sniper now! _ He sighed. He hoped he would see  _ Sniper _ sleeping peacefully. As he thought about all of that, his legs had led him right under the window of the van. Lucien looked at the base, as if anyone could catch him in the act. He was cloaked but felt like anyone could see him, he felt like he was going to commit a crime. 

_ Merde. _

He was used to that! Forty odd years of being a criminal! May it be paid by the French government or not! Why did he feel so naked, so visible, so  _ vulnerable? _ As if he was going to do something  _ wrong. _ He knew it would cost him but he was lifting himself on the tip of his toes, grabbing the thin windowsill with his gloved fingers and looked through the window. 

_ Mon Dieu… _

Mundy was giving his back to him, lying in bed. But Lucien could clearly see he was curled in foetal position, his chest contracting erratically. 

_ Il pleure toujours. _

[ _ He's still crying.] _

Lucien would have given anything to be there and ease his pain. 

_ Et merde! _

_ [And fuck it!] _

He went around, at the back of the van and opened his cigarette case. 

_ Je l'aime, je l'aime et c'est comme ça. Ce n'est une stupide porte qui va m'arrêter. _

_ [I love him, I love him and that's how it is. No stupid door will stop me.] _

Lucien stuck his cigarette between his lips, sucking all the nicotine out of it aggressively and letting it out through his nostrils, like an angry bull. He took some pins from his cigarette case and easily picked the lock. He smiled to himself devilishly, the flame that urged him to break whatever stood between him and his lover burning behind his eyes. He crushed the cigarette on the ground and tossing it away, he slipped inside the van and closed the door quickly, wishing the wave of cold air wouldn't wake Sniper up. He looked at him and saw Hootsy raising his head up, with its big round eyes. Lucien quickly put a finger on his lips as if to ask the night bird to stay quiet, and Hootsy simply obeyed. Mundy turned in his bed so that he was no longer facing the van's wall. Lucien sighed silently. He took the few steps that separated the door from the bed, hopping carefully over the half open bag that laid on the floor. 

The Frenchman came closer to the bed. He was a couple inches from Mundy's face where his tears were still wet. Contrary to himself, Mundy did not take the time to clean the bruises from the combat session and they showed on his face. But Lucien had been gentle with his punches, or as gentle as one could be with punches. The more Lucien stared, the harder it felt to not push himself on the tip of his toes a bit more and kiss those lips. Instead, the Frenchman raised his hand and slipped it between the metal bars of the bed, over his lover. He wanted to touch him, he wanted to put his hand on his shoulder and stroke him. Lucien saw his hand open and his fingers approach Mundy's cheek. 

_ Non. _

Sniper would feel it and wake up, so Lucien decided against it and put his hand down, behind his back, as he was cuffed and only able to touch the man he longed for with his eyes, behind the cold, metallic bars of the bed frame. The Frenchman watched over his lover until Sniper's breath was very regular. The Australian had fallen asleep and the Frenchman went to switch off the night lamp. He raised his head and watched the silhouette under the blanket breathe silently and smiled, albeit sadly. He wished he could do more than that. He wished he could hop on that bed and comfort Sniper, hold him close in his arms. 

Lucien sat on the counter opposite the bed, leaning his back against the van's wall and stared at the object of all his desires, so close yet so far from him. If at first Mundy seemed to sleep peacefully, he soon started to toss and turn in his bed, moaning and grimacing.

_ Merde, il fait un cauchemar. _

_ [Shit, he's having a nightmare.] _

Lucien waited to see if it was passing or not, but seeing that the more he waited, the louder the groans and the more Sniper was moving in his bed, the Frenchman decided to take action. He came close to the bed and started singing in whispers. He did not want to wake Mundy up. Non, he just wanted to calm him down, make him sleep in peace. No one had ever really sung any lullabies to him when he was a child, so Lucien sang the first thing that came to his mind looking at Mundy. And that happened to be  _ La Vie en Rose. _ He sang and to accompany his voice, he stroked Mundy's cheek, ever so delicately, with his gloved hand, tracing shapes with the tip of his finger before yielding to the temptation and actually stroking his cheek with the back of his knuckle. Lucien continued singing, switching songs but still in whispers. He just wanted to ease his lover, the man he could not afford to have in his arms, the man he had in his heart but not  _ against  _ it. He quickly glanced at the clock. 

_ 5 heures du matin. _

_ [5 in the morning.] _

His eyes came back to Mundy as he finished singing. He looked at him for a while, his own lips trembling. He wanted to say it. He had to, he couldn't let him sleep and not say it. Had he said it before they parted? Maybe, but he needed to say it again, to say it more and say it better! So he whispered:

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

He watched as Mundy's frowned eyebrows relaxed and he exhaled softly from his mouth. The Frenchman smiled. 

_ Je ne peux pas faire grand-chose de plus, mais c'est déjà ça. _

_ [I can't do much more, but at least that's that.] _

Mundy came back to sleeping peacefully for another hour, during which the Frenchman watched him from the counter. That hour passed like a flash and before he even got bored, Sniper's alarm clock rang.

The Frenchman, still cloaked, watched as Sniper opened his eyes and rubbed them, waking up slowly. He slammed the alarm clock to shut it up and sat up in his bed. 

"Hoo?"

"Mornin' Hoots…"

The Australian looked at the alarm clock. 

_ I managed to sleep the whole night without waking up once…? That's weird.  _

The Frenchman smiled. He didn't need Sniper to speak out in order to hear his thoughts. 

_ Wait a second… Where's my light gone? I had a light up… There _ . 

"Hoo?"

Hootsy jumped on his master's lap. 

"Hey mate, time to get up. There's work to do, also you wouldn't believe it, I had the weirdest dream."

The Australian petted his owl and continued talking, unaware that the Frenchman was sitting on the counter, listening in.

"It started as a terrible nightmare, I was beatin' up the BLU Spy really bad. But his mask disappeared and turns out it was Lu-nnh!  _ Spy. _ It was  _ Spy. _ "

Mundy sighed. 

"I gotta get back into the habit of calling him Spy now… Anyway, I held his disfigured face in my arms and I yelled at him to stay with me, I told him that I loved him. I said it in English and even tried in French…"

Lucien put a hand in front of his open mouth, his eyes wide open.

_ Il m'a dit 'Je t'aime' en français… _

_ [He said 'I love you' in French, to me…] _

"But  _ I  _ was the one who disfigured his face. I'm worthless… God knows I'd give everythin' I have so that none of that happens to him. But there he was, in my arms, blood dripping from everywhere on his face and unconscious. It was horrible, Hootsy, just horrible."

The Frenchman put his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head between his knees, listening carefully, with a sweet smile.

"Hoo-Hooo."

"And then we were in Badwater and uh… Let me think… What happened again…? Ah yeah, the round started and he ran past me, shoving me with his elbow as if I was in his way, as if I was an obstacle, a burden fer him. Oh, Hootsy, I felt terrible… And then the real BLU piece of garbage showed up. He stabbed me and shot bullets through me and I just wouldn't die. Later on, I woke up in Medic's lab, dead and covered by a white sheet. And that's when I heard Lu-argh, I mean  _ Spy _ , say that he didn't care if I died."

Lucien was about to protest, he raised his head and unwrapped his arms from his knees but he managed to stop himself before he could make a single sound. 

"But then the nightmare somehow turned into the best dream…"

Lucien raised an eyebrow and calmed down.

"Hoo-hooo."

"Oh, yeah, it was… It was just great. At first I smelled his cigarettes and then I was in his livin' room and he was singin'  _ La Vie en Rose  _ to me while stroking my cheek. For some reason he was whispering it very low, but Hootsy, it was him, it was  _ him! _ "

Seeing how excited Sniper was brought a smile to Lucien's lips.

"And-and he was touching my cheek…! I wish he did it with his fingers and not his gloves!"

The Australian sighed and let his shoulders sink sadly, not knowing that Lucien was sitting a couple metres away from him, delighted that his singing made it to Sniper, even if it's just through his dream. 

"But eh… I guess that's all I can get now, a touch in my dreams."

The Australian put a hand on the cheek Lucien had been brushing and smiled sadly, sighing. He then shook his head as if to shake away the remnants of his dreams.

"Y'know what, Hoots?"

"Hoo?"

"It's bloody stupid but I feel better."

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

"Hoo?"

"At the end, when he finished singing, he said that… he loved me."

Sniper blushed and lowered his head, smiling. It softened Lucien.

_ Mission accomplie. _

_ [Mission accomplished.] _

Sniper got up and went to the bathroom. Lucien took advantage of his absence and slipped out of the van. He went back to the base, his eyes burning and hurting from the absence of sleep but his heart satisfied, as much as it was allowed to be.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

Please do drop a comments and let me know what you thought of that one!

It drained the life out of me to write this, I absolutely loved it :D I hope you enjoyed it as much. 

Thanks to Deathtothecrows for his editing :) !

See you all around for 31!


	31. Chapter 31

On the battlefield that day, things went as smoothly as they could go for most mercenaries.  _ Most.  _ Obviously, for Sniper and Spy, the story was quite different. 

The marksman had equipped his razorback, in an attempt to deter the BLU Frenchman from annoying him too much. Well, too bad. The snake now knew something that could infuriate the Australian and for his team's benefit, as well as his personal amusement, his mind was set on using that intelligence. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur."

Sniper unscoped and rolled his eyes up, sighing as he anticipated the exasperation. He put his gun down and turned to face his enemy, readying his kukri.

"How are you today,  _ mate?" _

The BLU Spy started walking to get closer to the Australian. 

"I'm not your mate, bastard."

The Frenchman made a disgusted face as his eyes met with the jars of yellow fluid. But upon hearing Sniper, he raised his head and smirked arrogantly.

"Eeew, someone is  _ pissed _ off, as you say in English. Something's the matter,  _ mon cher?" _

[My dear  _ (friendly) _ ]

"Yeah well  _ someone _ won't be anymore!"

The Australian leapt forward and slashed through the air with his kukri, but the Frenchman saw it coming and dodged it easily. 

"Why do we have to end up fighting like this, jar-man?"

"Because we're bloody paid for it, you stupid!"

Sniper came back at it but this time the Frenchman not only dodge the blow but disarmed his opponent without breaking a sweat. His movements were perfectly executed as if he was reciting a poem engraved deeply in his body. He knew how to fight, that was undeniable. The kukri flew and landed with a cling on the floor. Spy kicked it away. 

"Now, what's the problem? Have you had a quarrel with your beloved?"

"Shut up!"

Sniper lunged forward and threw his fist, but again, he missed. 

"Oh, so it  _ is  _ a quarrel with your Spy… Aww, I'm sorry for you  _ mon ami _ . Is your heart aching?"

"SHUT!"

The Frenchman raised his hands flat and smirked.

"Well now, if you confide in me, I might help you, you know. I have the impression that you are not very experienced in this field,  _ mon ami. _ "

[My friend.]

"I am  _ not _ yer friend. Shut up and fight."

The Australian readied his fists and hunched his back slightly, just enough to align the upper part of the frame of his sunglasses with Spy's face. That way, the Frenchman would not be able to anticipate his movements by looking at his eyes. That advice he owed to Lu- _ Spy,  _ the RED one. 

_ "You are very bad at lying, I can read you like I would an open book. Try and hide your emotions." _

_ "Easy fer you to say…" _

_ "It's all in your eyes. Hide them if you can and that makes it a bit harder to read you." _

_ "Hide my-? What? You want me to fight blindfolded?!" _

_ "Mundy, in other contexts, I would be more than willing to encourage that…" _

Mundy had raised an eyebrow. He hadn't caught up on the innuendo straight away so Lucien had let his sentence hang in the air for a few seconds until he saw it click in his lover's eyes and his cheeks turned pink.

_ "...but that's not the point, not right now." _

Sniper zoned back to reality. 

"So, are you going to confide in me, or punch me?"

"None of those."

"Oooh, so what's the plan, Jar-man? _ " _

The Frenchman started to walk in circles around the Australian.

_ " _ Take me on a dinner date? Make your man jealous? See what happens after dinner, who knows…?"

The Australian gritted his teeth but focused on what Lu- _ Spy  _ had told him.

_ "He will provoke you. The more emotional you get, the more predictable you become. Don't let his words get to you. Whenever he speaks, don't focus on the words, focus on his body. Imagine where he is resting his body weight, where is his centre of mass? Where do you need to punch to make it the most efficient?" _

Sniper blinked and watched the BLU Frenchman again. He looked at him go in circles and applied what his lover told him. 

_ Step to the right, knee fragile-Now!  _

He kicked the Frenchman on his leg, right below his knee and this time, the BLU man didn't see it coming. He tipped forward and Sniper punched his jaw upward. 

_ "Argh!" _

He added another punch across the face and a last kick in the stomach sending the Frenchman on the floor. Sniper then bent down and took his kukri. He approached the BLU Spy and slashed through him to finish him off. 

"There…"

The Australian's eyes never let go of the corpse until it disappeared. 

"Heh…"

He smiled proudly. 

_ \-- A couple days later -- _

Same old routine on the battlefield, except now Pyro is helping him to get rid of the BLU Spy. Sniper got ready and had a few seconds to scope in and scan the battlefield. He did so and yawned. The Australian blinked and got surprised. 

_ Ha, I'm yawning despite sleeping like a baby… _

The BLU gates flung open and Sniper took his first shot. He reloaded.

_ I'm having nightmares that for some odd reason turn into the best dreams I could hope to have… _

Boom, headshot, reload.

_ It's always the same dream. I'm in his suite with him, he sings to me. The song is always different, but he always whispers.  _

Boom, headshot, reload. Pyro burnt the BLU Spy to a crisp.

_ Sometimes I recognise the song, sometimes I don't. But it's his voice, his songs, some I've never heard before, I don't understand all the lyrics, but they feel like love songs. _

Boom, bodyshot, reload.

_ And when I wake up, I feel a bit better because it feels like he still loves me. It feels like he still cares.  _

Boom, bodyshot, reload.

_ Even though I hardly ever see him on the battlefield and even in the base. Well, I never leave me van anyway, so no surprise. But yeah, it feels like he completely disappeared from my day life, only to appear in my dreams at night.  _

Boom, headshot, reload.

_ Ah and I can feel his touch, I can feel his hand on me, it feels so real! _

Boom, bodyshot, reload.

_ It feels so real but it's all made up in my head. I'm imagining everything and of course, in that version of story, he still loves me… _

Boom, missed, reload.

_ \-- A couple of days later -- _

On the battlefield, Sniper felt much more confident when it came to one-to-one combat with the Frenchman so that he thanked Pyro for his help and let them go and do their job elsewhere. The French BLU Spy actually appreciated the increasing challenge. That day he had come cloaked. He had abandoned trying to get on Sniper's nerves as he now knew that the Australian learnt to ignore his talk. He saw the razorback and took his revolver out. 

_ Boom! _

The bullet went through Sniper's ribcage, from behind. As he turned around, he took his kukri and slashed blindly through the air. He lost his balance and fell on his knees, the bullet aching in his chest. 

"Argh… Bloody useless… Bastard…"

The BLU Frenchman smiled proudly and crouched in front of his enemy who was lowering his head.

"Do you mind raising you head and standing still for a second, Jar-man?"

Sniper raised his head up in a flash, not understanding why the Frenchman would ask that, but then… 

_ BOOM! _

A bullet went through his skull and Sniper fell on the floor lifeless. 

_ Click! _

The Australian reappeared in spawn, the pain in his head finishing to fade away.

_ Wait, that was a headshot? But not from Spy. Did he just-? Did he ask me to stand still for his bloody Sniper to shoot me?! _

He took his rifle and went back to the battlefield. As soon as he settled in his nest, a familiar and unnerving voice broke his scoping. 

"Ah, there you are."

Sniper turned on his heels and got his kukri out, he lunged at his enemy and…

_ BOOM! _

The Australian fell on the floor again, the last image he saw before that was the BLU Frenchman smiling devilishly. Sniper gritted his teeth as he respawned and went back to the battlefield, in another sniping spot. 

" _ Peek-a-boo!" _

"Huh?"

Sniper did as much as turn his head and it popped with another bullet. 

_ Click.  _

The Australian had enough of this ridiculous bullying game that the enemy Sniper and Spy were playing on him. He went to another sniping spot but did not scope already. 

"Can someone take care of either the Sniper or the Spy?! They've been on my bloody back all the time and I can't manage to get any work done!"

"Eeerm, Snipes, their Sniper is your job, you know that right?", Scout answered. 

"Well, bloody help me! I can't take him down if that other snake of a man is constantly making sure that my head lines up with the other's crosshair!"

"We'll try and take care of the enemy Sniper, pardner!", asked Engineer. 

And the round continued until it ended with the BLU defeating the RED.

\--  _ Later that day -- _

Sniper was back in his van. He had showered and was now lying on his bed a hand behind his head and another petting Hootsy on his chest. 

"I hope tomorrow that bullying will stop. It's unbearable… I should probably call Pyro back to help me…"

"Hoo?"

"I don't know where Spy was and what he was doing. He should have kept their Sniper busy as much as the BLU idiot made me." 

"Hoo-Hooo."

"Yeah I did miserably in the end. All that because that wanker was constantly on my bloody back. But I guess, so did  _ he _ ."

"Hoo?"

"Because the sentries were never sapped and I haven't seen him backstab anyone. For the few moments where I could actually look at the battlefield, I never saw him…"

Sniper frowned and sighed. 

_ Wait a minute, that's true… Where the hell has he been the whole time? The few shots I took were not penetrative, so not the windowsill. I got bullied so much that I doubt he was sitting in the room with his arms crossed… Where has he been… _

"Hoo-hooo."

He raised his head off his bed. 

"No, I have no way to know where he was!"

"Hoo!"

"Oh God yes! I had forgotten about that! Hoots, you're a bloody genius! Roight, come along, we'll go and check!"

Sniper took his coat and exited his van. He ran to the base, opened the door and went straight to the stairs. His eyes couldn't help but glance at Spy's door and his heart inevitably sank. He gulped down hard and went upstairs. The Australian opened a door, entered and shut it behind him. The room was quite cold so he pulled his collar up and put his hood on. 

_ Roight, computer, how do I switch this thing on…? Ah, that big button.  _

He pressed it and after a few minutes, he managed to have access to the day's footage of the battle. 

_ Roight, so, that's the cart… That's where I was at the beginning… That's the front… Pyro on the side there, Demo on the other… Where is he? _

Sniper frantically switched his point of view from one camera to the next, looking for Spy but couldn't find him anywhere. The cold was getting to his fingers so instinctively, the Australian put a hand in his pocket and got his gloves out. The blue light coming from the screen reflected on the silver embroidering and blinded Sniper. He sighed and wore the gloves, swallowing the wave of sadness down his throat. 

_ Where the hell has he been…? _

A knock interrupted his train of thought.

"Hey, sorry there Sniper..."

Engineer had entered the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"D'you mind if I switch on the light? That blue screen must be killin' your eyes."

"Ah, y-yeah, please do."

The Texan flipped a switch and Sniper removed his hood off his head, turning on the wheels of his chair.

"I'm sorry to bother you, have ya seen Spah by any chance?"

The Australian blushed as if he's been caught red-handed in the middle of a robbery. 

"Uh, n-no, no I haven't, why?"

"We've been lookin' for him everywhere. Couldn't see him at work and haven't seen him since a good week now, if not more…"

"Have you tried his room?"

"Yeah, well…"

The short man put a hand behind his neck in embarrassment. 

"I knocked at his door but erm… He didn't answer."

"Can you see any light through the cat's door?"

"Yeah, there is light inside and-"

"Meow!"

Engie and Sniper both lowered their heads. Perle had entered the room and, trotting lightly, she jumped on Sniper's lap, who was still sitting on his chair.

"Oh, hello Pearl."

"Isn't that Spy's cat?"

"Yeah."

Sniper brushed her fur with his fingers and she started purring loudly. 

"So, lady cat, can you tell us where your master is? It's been a while since he's been at work and his performances are really bad.", Engineer said, looking at the cat. 

"Oh, really?"

"Have a look for yourself, Sniper."

Engineer came closer to the desk and started typing and clicking. The Australian did not understand what he was doing but once his colleague was done, Spy's results were displayed on the screen. 

"No backstabs and no sappin' sentries, it's as if he doesn't come to work at all..."

"Blimey…"

Sniper put a hand in front of his open mouth. 

"So, uhm, I wanted to ask you, Sniper, is he alright?"

Sniper lowered his head. 

"I-I don't know."

Engineer felt the sadness and distress in the Australian's voice.

"Oh, sorry, I just thought you two were uh…  _ close." _

His head still low, Sniper answered. 

"Y-yeah, we were."

The Texan put his hand on his colleague's shoulder. 

"What's wrong, pardner?"

"I-I can't say. It's-it's…"

"Alrighty then, I won't ask again. But if ya need anyone, I can do other things than fix sentry guns and catdoors."

"Thanks mate."

Engie started walking away and when he reached the door, he turned to face Sniper one last time. 

"Hey, uh, if ya see him, tell him that we all hope he's fine, alright?"

Sniper nodded and the Texan left, leaving the Australian in front of the wide screen. That, and Pearl. 

"Meow?"

"Where is he? Is he in his room?"

"Meow."

"Roight…"

He stared at Pearl's big blue eyes for a while not knowing what he should say. Or rather, what he  _ should hide.  _ But of course that was useless, on top of being the worst liar he knew, Mundy could not find it in his heart to lie to an animal. 

"I-I just don't know if I should go."

"Meow."

"Don't look at me like that, I-I… ugh…"

Pearl stood on her back legs and put her front paws on Mundy's chest, forcing him to lean back in the chair. He opened wide surprised eyes. 

"Meow!"

"Whot?"

She leaned herself on the Australian and brushing her head against his mouth. And that's when it hit him. He knew that for big cats, the wild ones, they'd do that to a member of their family, or people who raised them. Perle was telling him that he was…  _ family. _

He curled his arms around her and hugging her, he said:

"Pearl, what should I do? I-I still think about him all the time, even at work, he's constantly on my mind… And, and at night, Pearl, I _dream_ _of him only._ The rest is nightmares of me losing him again and again, every day, every night…"

Perle raised her head and jumped down, off Sniper's lap. She trotted to the door that the Texan had left open again, and left. He followed her with his eyes until she passed the door and turned again to face the screen.

_ What the hell is he doing…? Even I could manage at least one backstab…! Is he just bein-  _

"Meow."

Perle had come back and dropped something on the floor. 

"What's that now…?"

Mundy bent and took it in his hands. 

"Oh, it's his cigarette case…"

He opened it.

"Well… No more cigarettes also this is his- oh…?"

He stared at the cat.

"Are you suggestin' I…?"

"Meow."

Mundy put a hand on his brow and let it sink to his chin. 

"I-I can't, it's too hard, Pearl, I'll fail and he'll be mad and-"

"Meow!"

He shut up and sighed, looking at her. 

_ Please, _ she was asking with her eyes. 

He sighed again and got up, walking decidedly to the Frenchman's suite. He had made a decision.

\-- _ Spy's suite -- _

Spy heard a knock at the door and ignored it. Perle came next to him. The Frenchman was sitting on the sofa in front of the fire and was blankly staring at it. How long had he been planted there, staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace? He couldn't say for sure, but the ashtray next to him was overfilled and the cigarette corpses laid all around it.

_ Knock, knock, knock.  _

"Mh…"

Lucien ignored the knocks again. 

"Meow."

"Non."

"Meow."

"Non, je te dis. Je n'ai envie de voir personne."

[I said no. I don't want to see anyone.]

"Meow!"

Perle hissed and curved her back, showing her needlelike teeth.

"Pourquoi tu t'énerves?"

[Why are you getting angry?]

She jumped down and nibbled at the Frenchman's ankles, kneading her paws in his feet. 

"Tsss-arrête de faire ça! Je n'ouvrirai pas!"

[Tsss-stop it! I will not open the door!]

Perle screeched aggressively.

"Bien, ça va, d'accord!"

[Right, fine, ok!]

The Frenchman went to the door and opened. 

"Oh hey uh… Pardner, heh…"

The Texan was standing behind the door. 

"Engineer. What can I do for you?"

The Frenchman asked out of politeness but he wasn't willing to do anything for his colleague.

"Well…"

Engie entered the flat and went straight to the sofa. Spy followed him with his eyes, mildly irritated at the fact that this Texan hadn't asked permission to step inside. The Frenchman closed the door, mumbling his annoyance under his breath and sat on the sofa. Each of them were one side from the overflowing ashtray.

"Uhm, I'm sorry to bother you really but uh, yeah, I-I wanted to ask if you were alright…"

"I am fine." Spy answered dryly. 

"Well, you don't seem like it really. I mean, you're sitting here with no lights on, only the fire, smokin' uh…"

Engie looked at the ashtray. 

"...smokin' too much… And sorry to say, but your eyes are very red, you've got bags the size of a planet under yer eyes and-and you look like you're barely alive, not to mention the wine…"

Engie looked around at the dozen or so empty bottles lying on the floor.

"I. Am. Fine."

"Spah, even your shirt is all crumpled and your hair is stickin' out of your mask and…"

The shorter man sighed.

"Pardner, look, everyone in the base has been worried about ya. We barely see you at work and your results are… Well they're uh… They're not what they used to be  _ before…" _

"Are you saying I am incompetent?", Spy asked, coldly, his eyes staring at the flames. Engie could feel the rage boiling down the Frenchman's soul. 

"No, no, no, not at all, all I'm sayin' is uh… How can I say… I mean we're just worried, that's all…!"

The Frenchman turned his head and was about to answer when Perle climbed on the sofa, and then on the Texan's lap. Spy raised an eyebrow, staring at Perle, then back at Engie. He frowned. 

_ Quelque chose ne tourne pas rond. _

_ [Something is wrong.] _

Engie was nervously wiping his hands on his thighs and he was visibly uncomfortable. Of course, Spy understood that it was a delicate matter to come at a colleague and tell him face to face that he'd been useless for the past dozen days, but he would never have imagined he could be  _ that _ awkward. Also, since when did Perle behave in that way with strangers?

"Well, thanks for your concern, but there is no need to worry for me."

"Ah, right, good…"

The Texan fiddled with his fingers, scratched the back of his head and gulped loudly. 

"Oh, by the way, as long as you're here now, have you repaired my revolver?" The Frenchman asked.

"Oh, uh, your revolver, yeah, nah, actually I'll need a bit more time, it's not completely repaired yet b-but it's gettin' there."

"Ah…"

The Frenchman smiled to himself. 

"Engineer?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

The Frenchman took a deep breath. 

"Here is why I have  _ 'bags the size of a planet'  _ under my eyes, why I've been drinking so much and all the rest. As you know, I had a  _ special _ relationship with Sniper."

The Texan nodded and blushed.

"Unfortunately, it had to end. It was not my decision or his. The Administrator decided so."

"Oh…"

"But since then, I have spent my nights incapable of sleeping and, well, Sniper had told me that he has nightmares when I don't sleep with him."

The Texan opened eyes the size of dinner plates. He would never have expected the Frenchman to give him such  _ intimate  _ details.

"So every night, for the past couple of weeks now, I used to pick his van's lock, cloak and get inside his van."

Engie's jaw dropped. 

"You what…?"

"That's not all. I would sit on the counter opposite his bed and watch him sleep, until I see him toss and turn in his bed, then I know that he's having a nightmare. Do you know what I then do?"

Engie was incapable of speaking, he simply shook his head, still looking at Spy as if he came from a foreign planet.

"I would get off the counter, approach his bed and sing to his ear. See, I don't know any lullabies, or hardly any, so I'd sing the only things that come to my mind when I watch him sleep."

Spy looked at the flames with dreamy eyes, he then turned to face Engie's shocked face and stared right at his eyes when he said:

"Love songs. I would whisper love songs, in French, in his ear, while stroking his cheek delicately…."

Engie's breath was cut short and his face was red as a brick. He wanted to speak, say something, anything! But how could he…? The Frenchman resumed his speech, his eyes still locked on his colleagues'.

"Engineer, I love him. I still love him with every fibre of my body and I can't  _ not _ think about him."

Engie felt so hot he might have burnt on the spot. How could Spy tell him _that_ _many things_ , and things that were _that strong?_ That was beyond him. The Texan had to say something, he couldn't realistically stay mute, come on!

"Uh, ah, heh, I mean… Ah, well…"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Perle, s'il te plaît."

[Perle, please.]

The cat who was listening, curled in a ball of fur on Engie's lap, rose to her back paws and bit the Texan's face. A piece of white cardboard tore under the lady cat's teeth.

"No, no, no, no, no!" said the Texan!

And in a cloud of smoke, hiding his face in his hands was Mundy, as if his hands would make him invisible. 

Lucien smiled. 

"And you really thought you could fool me?"

Mundy moved a finger, to see Spy in between. 

"How did you know it was me?", the Australian asked, with a muffled voice.

"Even if you had managed a flawless imitation, I would recognise you anywhere. Also, I never asked Engineer to repair a revolver."

Mundy lowered his hands and his head. He still couldn't look Lucien in the eye. 

"Is… Is it true what you said?"

"What?"

"About you comin' to me van and… and the rest?"

"Oui, it is true. And it partly explains why I'm worthless at work, I am beyond sleep-deprived!"

The Frenchman removed his mask and his gloves, and dropped them on the ground. 

"So what were you doing at work, where were you?"

"I was sitting in a corner, cloaked, and smoking cigarette after cigarette, fuming like a train…"

"Oh, I see…"

Mundy paused.

"So wait… You-you really spent your nights up, watchin' over me?"

"Oui."

"You waited for my nightmares to come and you sang to calm me down?"

"Oui."

"Every night?"

"Oui."

"Blimey…"

The Australian pug a hand on his brow and silence fell for a while, only interrupted by the sizzling of the wood burning in the fireplace.

"B-but why? I mean… It must have hurt! You're not helpin' yerself, behavin' like that."

Lucien smiled and looked down at his feet. 

"It did indeed. It ripped my heart apart, and it did so  _ for every single night." _

"So why do it then?"

"I can't bear it."

"Bear what?"

"The  _ solitude _ ."

The Frenchman paused. 

"That, and knowing that you couldn't sleep well because of the nightmares."

He removed the ashtray and the countless cigarette corpses from between them. 

"I can't."

"Ya can't what?"

"I can't do anything without you by my side. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't work… I'm, as you would say,  _ bloody useless." _

Silence fell.

"So what do we do now?"

There was a knock at the door. 

"Ah, that should answer your question, pray excuse me for an instant."

The Frenchman went to the door and soon came back on the sofa.

"I'm sorry about this. Now, I think I would need to sleep."

"Roight."

The Australian stood up.

"Oh, I almost forgot…"

The Australian put a hand in his pocket and took the Spytron 3000 out: spy's disguise kit/cigarette case. He left it on the sofa and walked away, towards the door. 

"Headshot Man?"

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks a lot for reading! 

As always leave a comment to let me know what you thought of this chapter! :D

Mega thanks to Deathtothecrows for his editing and to the discord crew for their kind words of encouragement, it's thanks to them all that I push myself to always do better!

See you for 32!


	32. Chapter 32

"Headshot Man?"

Mundy stopped on his way to the door and turned to look at the sofa. The Frenchman was looking at him. 

"Where do you think you are going?"

"B-back to me van, you said ya needed to sleep."

Lucien jumped over the sofa and walked to Mundy. 

"I just said I can't sleep without you and you walk away?"

The Frenchman wanted to wrap his hands around Sniper's neck but resisted the urge. 

"I-I… Well I can't sleep without you either… But the Administrator, she-"

" _ She _ is not a problem anymore."

He got the piece of paper that he had just received a moment earlier out of his pocket and handed it to Mundy, smirking. The latter opened it and read. 

_ "To the RED Spy,  _

_ Your behaviour has been unacceptable but we need you and you only to test those Mann Co. weapons. We are revoking the conflicting part of your contract and the RED Sniper's. Go back to work and we remind you that failure will not be tolerated.  _

_ The Administrator." _

Lucien smiled proudly and wiggled his eyebrows.

"This is how you get what you want from your employer, Mundy."

"Uh?"

The Frenchman opened his arms proudly, sticking his chin slightly up.

"You simply go on strike!"

"How very French of you…!"

"Dare tell me that you don't like it when I'm being too French!"

"You know I can't… Wait, that means that- oh bugger! That's a bloody Australian Christmas miracle!"

The Australian dropped the piece of paper and, wrapping his arms around his lover, he hugged him, pulling him off the ground and spun around. Both men laughed in relief.

"Hahahaha! That means you're back!"

"Non,  _ we _ are back!"

Mundy wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. The Frenchman chuckled as a bolt of sweet warmth jolted through his body and he simply could not resist anymore. He hugged his lover tenderly, grabbing him from his collar and burying his head in Mundy's chest. 

_ "Tu m'as manqué… Tu m'as tellement manqué…" _

[ _ I missed you… I missed you so much…] _

Lucien slid his hand behind his lover's back and clung to him fiercely. Mundy smiled and let one of his hands brush his lover's back while the other was behind his lover's head, through his salt and pepper hair.

"So did I but…"

Lucien broke the embrace. 

"But what?"

"But I can't believe you went sleepless for more than a week to put  _ me  _ to sleep! You shouldn't have done that, look at you now, you're completely destroyed!"

"Who cares! It was worth every second of it."

Lucien cupped Mundy's face in his hands and looked in his eyes, sliding his fingers through the thick hairs of Mundy's sideburns. Oh he had missed those ridiculous sideburns! The Australian blushed, seeing those light eyes riveted on his, piercing through him. 

"I'm so glad you're back.."

The Frenchman raised himself to the tip of his toes and put his lips next to Mundy's ear. 

"... _ mon amour." _

The marksman smiled, closing his eyes. He felt them all again, the butterflies inside him, the flapping of their wings, like those candles that spark vividly on the burning cake of his desires. The Frenchman rested his head on his lover's shoulder and silence fell, during which they clung to each other, rocking slightly left and right, slowly.

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Let's go and sleep. You must be dead tired."

"Oui, merci."

Lucien took Mundy by the hand and, like a reflex, as if to make sure that his lover would not slip away from him, Mundy gripped the Frenchman's hand tightly. They went to the bedroom and after a quick change, they laid in bed, each on their side, their eyes locked on each other. The faint light from their night lamps coloured the bedroom in shades of warm and sweet oranges. 

Mundy slid his fingers between his lover's. Lucien was struggling to keep his eyes open. The Australian whispered:

"Lu', sleep, I'm here now."

The Frenchman smiled.

"I know, I just want to look at you a bit more, please."

"Roight, roight, just five minutes, ok?"

"You're not my mother Mundy!" 

The Australian burst in laughter. Oh how Lucien liked to hear it, that hoarse laughter, and how he had missed it…! 

"Yeah, nah, I'm not yer mum. But I care about you just as much, now, sleep-what?"

"Meow."

Perle had jumped on the bed and lied between her two masters. 

"Perle, va te coucher dans ton panier, je veux être seul avec Mundy."

[Perle, go and sleep in your bed, I want to be alone with Mundy.]

"Don't tell her off, she can say if she wants."

Perle went and brushed herself over Mundy's face. 

"Mundy, don't contradict me, you're confusing her and I'm losing my authority!"

"Meeeow."

"She's right, since when do you have  _ any  _ authority when it comes to her?"

"Oh, come on!"

"Hahahahaa! Don't take it badly, I'm just jokin'! Oh, Lu', c'mon!"

The Frenchman turned and was now giving his back to his lover.

"Non!"

The Australian rolled his eyes up and smiled. 

"Alroight, alroight… Pretty cat, please, be a good girl and listen to yer dad."

He scratched her head and she swiftly left the bed. 

"Now, to take care of this grumpy old man."

"Hey, I'm not  _ a grumpy old man!" _

"Nah, it's true, you're _my grumpy_ _old man."_

Mundy curled an arm over his lover and pulled him to himself. He held him close, resting his lips on Lucien's back and sticking his chest to the Frenchman's back. The Australian adjusted the blanket on him and his lover. He raised his head off the pillow and left a tender kiss in his lover's neck. Little did he know that Lucien had closed his eyes and melted under that gentle proof of love. 

Mundy's lips parted from his lover's neck. 

"Mmh!"

"What?"

"More."

"Uh?"

"Please. I've missed you too much."

Mundy smiled.

"But you're not gonna sleep much…"

"I don't care, we don't work tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, true. But aren't you tired?"

"I am tired of arguing and not getting  _ the attention I want _ …"

"Well, alroight  _ Monsieur _ , I just wanted you to sleep and get yer rest but if you'd prefer…"

Mundy let his hand brush his lover's neck before dropping his lips on it. His hand slid down along his side, making sure his fingertips would delicately brush the skin, lightly tickling it. In the dim light of the lamp, Mundy saw the goosebumps appear on his lover's skin and heard him breathe only a little bit louder, with his mouth open.

"Ah… I've missed your touch so much…"

Lucien turned to lay on his back and Mundy smiled. The Australian turned too, and put a knee between his lover's legs. He put his hand on his cheek, a bit awkwardly, and pulled his face to himself. 

"I've missed you a lot too, luv'."

Mundy stared at Lucien's eyes, one after the other, his lips slightly parted. Their faces were but an inch apart, the light from the lamp reflecting in each other's eyes. Mundy was trying to make it last before the fall, clinging on to the edge of a cliff that was dangerous in the pleasure it gives if one let go. Lucien understood it, but he got an idea. He whispered:

" _ Mon amour?" _

[ _ My love?] _

He paused for a second. Mundy was breathless but his eyes answered. 

_ Yeah? _

_ "Je t'aime. Je t'aime comme un fou…" _

_ [I love you, I love you like a mad man…] _

Mundy was on top on Lucien now and the Frenchman raised his arms slightly off the bed to put a hand on his lover's chest and the other through his hair. 

_ "Je t'aime tellement, je voudrais que nos nuits durent une éternité." _

_ [I love you so much, I would like our nights to never end.] _

He smiled. 

_ "Quand je te regardais dormir, mon coeur ne pouvait que soupirer dans la douleur exquise de voir l'être de tous mes désirs devant moi, sans jamais pouvoir le toucher, comme une oeuvre d'art sans prix." _

_ [When I watched you sleep, my heart could only sigh in that exquisite pain of seeing the reason of all my desires before me, without ever being able to touch you, like a priceless masterpiece." _

Mundy opened his eyes wider, his pupils dilating slowly. The Frenchman raised his knees and the Australian laid flat on his lover's chest, burying his head in his lover's neck. 

"Mmmh…"

The taller man moaned and the Frenchman smirked. He was confident in himself, he knew his idea would work, but what a reward to hear those throaty moans from his lover.

_ "Et j'ai vu le tourment de tes cauchemars te saisir. Tu sais, je ne me pardonnerais pas de te savoir mal et de ne pas t'aider. Je veux être là pour toi, de jour comme de nuit, toujours." _

_ [And I saw the torment of your nightmares possess you. You know, I would not manage to forgive myself if I knew you were unwell and I did not help. I want to be here for you, day and night, always.] _

The Frenchman was saying all this while letting his fingers explore Mundy's back, the backstab marks, the scars. The Australian on the other hand felt like he was following the course of a calm river, his lover's chest and whole body supporting him like a raft. Oh, everything made sense now. Nature was colourful again and Lucien's voice was blowing the vital essence of life back into Mundy. And the Australian could feel it all. Lucien's words gently and swiftly flew by like a happy family of swallows in spring. The Frenchman's voice bent the reeds on the banks of the river, with the wind of its murmurs, his soft words bending the fauna to his will and bringing the bright green back to the foliage of the fern and tall oaks. Mundy let his hand hang off the raft and the river gently stroked his fingers; curious fish came to greet their callous new friends and tickled the Australian's fingertips. He smiled. He liked it there, in the safety of his lover's arms, in the warmth of his love and affection. Nah, the truth was he didn't just like it. He had been craving it and was completely bewitched, as well as addicted. Lucien was, as Mundy had said the other day,  _ 'a ball of repressed romance' _ , just like himself. A very romantic soul in a body trained to kill. 

_ "Mon amour, j'aimerais tellement pouvoir remonter le temps et te rencontrer plus tôt, tellement plus tôt. J'ai le sentiment que je n'ai passé mon temps qu'à errer, à chercher cette personne qui par sa voix, son corps et ses silences saura toujours trouver le chemin de mon coeur. Et je t'ai enfin trouvé." _

_ [My love, I would like to rewind time so much and meet you earlier, much earlier. I have the feeling that I have spent my time wandering in life, looking for that one person who, with their voice, their body and their silence will always find the way to my heart. And I have found you." _

"Mmmmh, Lu'... If you continue…"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"What if I continue?"

Mundy raised his head off his lover's neck, he was blushing. 

"I-I… Well I uh, I mean… I-I just… You're makin' me… uh… You're making me want you."

The Australian lowered his eyes as he knew he was red as a brick. Lucien put his index under Mundy's chin and pulled his face up. 

"I have never complained about that."

"Uh…"

"Mundy?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Look at me."

"I am."

"Non, in my eyes."

The Australian obeyed and raised his eyes slowly to meet his lover's. 

"Do you remember when you asked me if I  _ 'liked you a lot'? _ "

He nodded and blinked with both eyes. 

"I  _ love _ you,  _ mon coeur _ . That means that I always want you. And feeling your almost naked body on mine sets my skin on fire."

_ [My heart (literally)] _

The Australian blushed hard and put his head back against Lucien's neck. He didn't want him to see the red on his cheeks.

"Mon amour? Something's the matter?"

"Nah I… I just love ya, that's all."

Lucien smiled. 

"So do I, Mundy, so do I.  _ Je t'aime de tout mon coeur." _

_ [I love you with all my heart.] _

Mundy nuzzled in Lucien's neck and left a kiss there, right under his ear. 

"Mmh…" 

The Australian smirked and raised an eyebrow. He whispered. 

"D'you wanna…?"

"Do I want what?"

"Well, you were sayin' nice things in French…"

"Non, I was not."

"Yeah you were! I can understand most of it if you speak slowly enough, y'know."

Lucien smiled. 

" _ Je ne cherchais pas à faire des compliments. Je disais juste la vérité." _

_ [I was not looking to make compliments. I was just telling the truth.] _

The Frenchman turned his head and left a kiss in his lover's hair. 

"Do I need to sing you a song tonight?"

"Nah, just-just stay with me."

"I will."

Lucien lost his fingers in his lover's hair and slowly fell asleep, a smile on his lips. The Australian remained awake for a bit longer, feeling Lucien breathe slowly and regularly. He just wanted to tell himself that he was lucky for a bit longer, before abandoning reality. 

_ \-- The next morning -- _

Mundy slowly opened his eyes and his senses connected back to reality, one by one. He looked around him. No Lucien in the bed. 

_ Oh… _

He raised his head off the pillow and that's when his ears registered the sound of the shower going on next door. He smiled and laid his head back on the pillow. The white noise of the shower made him fall asleep again. 

Lucien finished his shower. He put on his dark red satin pajamas and his dressing gown on top. The Frenchman went to his kitchenette and started making an omelette and some coffee. He broke a couple eggs in a bowl, with a pinch of salt and pepper and started mixing the mixture quickly with a fork. As he mixed the eggs, his hair, which was still dripping with water, whipped his face repeatedly, right on his eye. He closed one eye as he grew annoyed by it. He grabbed an onion and a bit of garlic. He sliced them and added them to the mix when his ears pricked up. He smiled.

Suddenly, a hand came from behind his back went on his mouth and another on his chest. 

"Mh!"

The hand on his chest travelled down, on the satin of his pajama shirt.

"Mmmh…"

And then Lucien felt Mundy's body against him, from behind. The Australian had quickly stuck his chest against his lover's back. The Frenchman let go of the knife he was using, letting it fall on the floor with a metallic cling. He moaned louder and put his hands on his lover's arm, following its motion down. Mundy smiled. With the hand that was on Lucien's mouth, he pulled on the side gently to expose his lover's neck. He kissed it and nibbled at it from behind, making sure his pointy canines would sting his lover's skin from time to time. Lucien rolled his eyes up in pleasure and he exhaled loudly. The Australian's other hand went down but not  _ straight to the point.  _ He let it slide on the pyjama trousers, on Lucien's upper left thigh.

"Mmmh…"

Mundy smirked and said in his lover's ear, with his growl-like, hoarse voice.

"Can't escape me, you're mine."

Lucien felt his knees go weak, they were wobbling under his weight. Mundy felt it too and chuckled slightly.

"Can't walk on yer own now? Tsss, I was just startin'... C'mere, I'll show ya what's next."

Mundy guided Lucien back to the bedroom, feeling that the Frenchman walked indeed with some difficulty. He had no idea Lucien would also like  _ more rough interactions  _ but his comment in the training room the other day had stuck in his mind. Lucien's pupils were wide, like a cat in the dark.

"You're wearing one of  _ my _ shirts…"

"Yeah, sorry I couldn't find my clothes in the room so I just took one of yours."

Mundy was wearing it completely open and with the sleeves rolled up. Lucien bit his lip.

"I am not complaining. Tu es  _ irrésistible _ comme ça."

[You look  _ irresistible _ like that.]

Lucien made the 'r' in 'irrésistible' purr softly. The Australian smiled and blushed slightly.

"Oh I know fer a fact ya can't resist me. You just lost yer legs back there, and..."

Mundy straddled his lover on the bed and bent down so that his lips were next to Lucien's ear. He whispered.

"...I'm not done with you, not by a long shot."

Lucien smiled and closed his eyes, circling his arms around his lover's neck. Mundy continued to whisper.

"I've been wantin' you since forever…"

Mundy kissed his lover's neck gently.

"Aah…"

"I've been cravin' for you and everythin' you have for too long…"

"Ooh, Mundy…"

He continued to kiss.

"And hearing you like this… Remember what I told you in the shower the other day?"

"Mmh, oui, I do…"

"Yesterday, I wanted to eat you alive, Lu'. But I kept it to myself because you were tired. Today, I can't hold myself back any longer, not when you… when you moan like this…"

"Mmh, Mundy…"

"You've made me want you too much, it's-it's hard to speak…"

He kissed faster and nibbled more, his breath accelerated too.

"It's-it's hard to keep my eyes open…"

He bit Lucien's neck softly, and sucked the skin there. The Frenchman dug his nails in his lover's skin, on his back, while hissing of pleasure.

"Hsss, Mundy…!"

The Australian moaned in his turn.

"I want you too much, I want you too much, I want you too much…!"

He moved his head so that now they were resting their foreheads against each other.

"I love you… I-I, uh…"

Mundy closed his eyes and put his nose against his lover's. Neither of them could see straight anymore. Their breaths were short, their lips parted. The Australian slid his hands in his lover's long hair, feeling the silver silk-like fibres flow between his fingers. The Frenchman smiled with his eyes closed. He bent his head back imperceptibly and they felt each other's burning lips brush past. They knew that the moment they yielded, they would fall hard and for good.

" _ Mundy, je te veux, je te veux tellement…" _

_ [Mundy, I want you, I want you so much…] _

The Australian gritted his teeth and gulped hard. His heart jumped each time he heard that voice calling him by his name, with that special accent, that music that tickled his guts inside. It was hard to resist the urge, his lips were trembling, his heart was pumping and beating in his temples. 

And as they say in French,  _ et ce qui devait arriver, arriva: _ and what should have happened, happened. Wordlessly, they knew when to both dive in and kiss. Their lips met with such a strong force. They felt their brains exploded inside, like a watermelon would burst, painting the walls of their skulls in pink. Lucien added his tongue to the play, and Mundy welcomed it with a long moan. The Frenchman lead the dance. More than anything else, he wanted to test what his lover had told him under the shower. 

_ I just become an animal _ . He had said. 

So now the game was to tease Mundy as much as possible to try and get that animal out of him. The Frenchman licked Mundy's tongue, never locking it completely for a kiss, making the Australian look for it, and ask for it, more and more. Mundy broke the kiss quickly to remove the shirt he was wearing. Lucien smiled maliciously.

"Get yer clothes off."

"You'll have to make me."

Lucien answered, smirking. The Australian raised his eyebrows and smiled. He dived again, only wearing a pair of boxers. Lucien was playing hard to get? So be it. Mundy was ready and his mind was set to do anything it would take to get his lover to a comparable state to his. He caressed the Frenchman's chest, on his pajama shirt as he kissed him passionately, pulling his lips strongly to himself. Mundy sat up and pulled the ribbon of his lover's dressing gown away, untying it. He opened it and lunged again to Lucien's lips, slowly sinking his lips down his neck. The Frenchman raised his head up, to reveal more of his slender neck, through which the blood was pumping fast. Mundy kissed and licked the skin.

"Aaaah, mon Dieu…"

The Australian's ears pricked up at the long, meaningful sigh. He continued his journey down until he reached the collar of the night shirt. He sat up and focused to undo the buttons despite his trembling fingers. He was eager, out of breath, and he wanted more of his lover. 

_ Pop… pop… pop… pop… pop… _

Lucien kept his eyes closed to solely focus on the breeze of fresh air that slowly made his way to his chest, as his lover undid the buttons. As soon as Mundy finished, he flashed the shirt open and laid his hands flat on it, losing his fingers on his lover's chest hair.

"Mmmh…" 

His hands were hot so to Lucien it felt like he was being branded with the red hot iron mark of his lover's touch. He loved it. Mundy kissed that chest, lapping at it, making sure every single square inch of the Frenchman's skin was accounted for, and claimed as his own territory. He lightly scraped his nails on it his lover's torso, like one would with a matchstick to set it ablaze. And the Frenchman, who had slid his fingers on his lover's head, through his hair, tightened his grip. Mundy smirked and continued travelling south. That's when he realised it. If he himself had a trail of hair between his chest and  _ down south _ , the Frenchman was lacking it. His stomach was hairless. He licked it and kissed it. He loved every part of his lover's body. They all had a different taste and felt different on his tongue but he loved them all.

As he kissed his stomach, the Frenchman shivered. The Australian smiled as he arrived at the waistband of his lover's trousers. He sat up and helped Lucien out of his dressing gown and shirt. He then pushed him to lie again, lacing his arms around him and squeezing him tight, feeling his chest against his lover's, a feeling he had missed for weeks. And that made it more intense. Both moaned as their breaths mingled. 

_ "Ooh, comme ça m'a manqué de te sentir contre moi…!" _

_ [Oh how I missed feeling you against me…!] _

The Frenchman raised his legs and locked them behind his lover's back, pulling him to himself. 

"Aaah, Lu'..."

Both felt it then. They were both _ very much in the mood for more. _ Mundy pressed his pelvis harder against the Frenchman's and their kiss strengthened. The Australian then quickly slid down and stopped when his head was at the level of Lucien's trousers waistband. The Frenchman raised his head and looked down. Mundy was staring intensely, his eyes black with lust, his vision blurred with eagerness. 

He slid his shaking fingers on each side and slowly pulled the trousers and underwear down. As he did so, Lucien's desirous masculinity sprang up, curious and asking to meet with Mundy. The Australian's lips parted and with his eyes still locked on his lover's burning desire, he removed the trousers and underwear. He then quickly removed his own boxer shorts and laid on his lover again, kissing passionately, breathing loudly. 

Their legs twisted and turned as the contact of the entire naked bodies, their skins, made their heads spin. The bedsheets swished louder under their movements. Lucien put a hand down on Mundy's backside, pulling his pelvis against his own. The Australian broke the kiss and raised his head up, as if to implore the help of the All-Mighty. The feeling of their most intimate and primitive love connecting was creating more pleasure than he could handle. He raised his head to take a deep breath of fresh air before sinking again in the ocean of their sweet and scorching desires. 

It was hot, way too hot. Both were sweating under the heat of their lust. The Frenchman made Mundy lie down, to be the one who was now in charge. He was still waiting to see the ferocious animal that Mundy was keeping in himself so he decided to be in control again, and tease his lover more. He smirked, looking down at his lover. 

"Ferme les yeux."

[Close your eyes.]

Mundy obeyed and felt his lover leave. 

"Wait, don't leave!" He said, raising his hand and opening his eyes. 

"Ssssh…"

Lucien came back to the bed and put his lips on Mundy.

"... Don't worry, I just need something, I will be right back. Now, please, close your eyes."

"Alroight, alroight, don't be too long."

"Don't worry."

The Australian obeyed. He remained sat and closed his eyes. He pricked his ears up but couldn't hear anything, as if his lover had turned to vapor. Even the noise of his feet brushing the carpet was non existent. Mundy waited patiently, even though each second that passed made his fear of Lucien leaving him grow bigger. But before he could think about it too much, he felt a soft cloth in front of his eyes. 

"Uh…?"

"Sshhh, trust me." 

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and I hope you liked this one! :D

Mega thanks to the discord crew for their support, and to Deathtothecrows for editing this! :D

See y'all around for 33!


	33. Chapter 33

Mundy felt the thin, soft and long cloth go around his head and Lucien tied it at the back. He was now blindfolded.

"Lu', what…?"

The Frenchman lifted his lover off the bed. 

"Now, you need to trust me, Mundy."

"Am I not already?"

"Bien."

[Good.]

Lucien made his lover spin a couple of times and went to his ear. He purred softly. 

" _ Attrape-moi si tu peux." _

_ [Catch me if you can.] _

The Australian gasped. He turned his head left and right, spreading his arms around him.

"Where are you?"

"Have a guess."

The voice came from the right. Mundy turned to his right and took a step in the dark.

"Warmer, but definitely quite cold." 

He took another step. 

"Mh-mh."

And another.

"Go on."

Lucien moved in the room. 

"Non, you're colder."

"Oi, you moved?!"

"Oui."

"That's cheatin'!"

"Non, it's not."

"Yeah it is."

"Not, when you're still  _ in that state…" _

Mundy felt it between his legs. The thrill of the chase and the blindfold was really getting to him, there was no hiding it. He felt like a tiger looking for a gazelle on a hot summer day, under the scorching sun.

"Roight… Lu', I'm comin' for you."

The Australian took another step forward, carefully, feeling the carpet softly lower under his feet.

"Mh-hm."

Another step.

"Oh, too bad, I'm here now."

"Stop movin' around! How d'you want me to catch you?"

"Well, I thought you were a hunter and all that. It turns out, you're not so good…"

Lucien said it to provoke his lover and it didn't fail. The Australian frowned. Just to make sure to keep him in the mood, Lucien came close to his lover and delicately let his index trace a long line on his back from the top down.

"Huh?"

The Australian spun on his heels. The Frenchman then went around and put his lips on his lover's shoulder and quickly removed them. Mundy's mind was set. He would find Lucien. He screwed his eyes shut and steadied his breath. All he needed was to focus. He emptied his head from everything that was lying in his thinking space, tidied up the place and left only what he needed to find his lover. His sight was taken away but he still had his sense of smell, hearing and touch.

_ Roight. _

He took a deep breath and focused more. 

_ Heartbeat. That's my heartbeat. Ignore that. Breath. Mine. Ignore. Where is Lu'...? _

He felt something. A movement in the air. Sniper did not want to turn his head yet, he wanted to know where the air was moving to, in which direction. 

_ Roight, on my left, he's on my left. The floor creaked slightly there. Wood, he's touching wood, that's the bed frame. The bed is there, on my left.  _

"Come on, I don't have all day."

Mundy smiled to himself. He knew why the Frenchman decided to speak only then. It was to cover up the noise of the bedsheets and the bed lowering under his weight. 

_ Gotcha. _

Wordlessly, the taller man turned to the left and took the two steps that separated him from the bed confidently, as easily as if he could see. He leapt on the bed and towered his lover. 

"Gotcha, my gazelle."

Lucien smiled. 

"I guess you won then, Mundy. But that chase was not just for my entertainment."

"Uh?"

The Frenchman put a hand behind his lover's head and pulled him down. He then whispered in his ear:

_ "Je veux rencontrer cet animal qui sommeille en toi, mon amour." _

_ [I want to meet with that animal you're keeping in yourself, my love.] _

Mundy removed the blindfold and realised it was one of Lucien's tie. 

"Y-you what?"

"You told me that sometimes, when you want me a lot, you turn into an animal."

"Ah, uh, yeah, I mean, uh…"

"I want that animal."

Mundy opened big round eyes.

"B-but you're so soft… I don't want to… uh…"

"Please."

Mundy sighed and rolled to his side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"The truth is that… I don't know meself if I… I mean, the only thing I know is that when I want you  _ that _ much, something just disappears in me."

"What do you mean?"

Lucien turned to lie on his lover's chest. He caressed his torso, tracing shapes with his fingertip. 

"I-I mean when I want you like that, I can't see straight anymore. Nothin' else exists. I-I just see you. I just know that… I need to feel you, everywhere."

Mundy put a hand on his brow and let it sink down. 

"Pfff, listen to me… I'm bloody ridiculous."

"What?! Non! Not at all, you are not ridiculous. You are just sensitive, and I wouldn't want you any other way. Mundy, mon amour, ce que tu ressens, c'est juste du désir. N'as-tu jamais ressenti ça avant moi?"

[Mundy, my love, what you feel is just lust. Have you never felt that before me?]

"N-no, not that much."

Lucien opened wide eyes and his pupils shrank. 

_ Merde. _ He thought.

How could such a lovely man spend more than thirty years without feeling that urge? That drive that possesses one, sweeps them off their feet and throws them off high cliffs. The Frenchman realised in a flash that, not only did his lover have no experience in flirting or managing a relationship, He also was discovering a whole new spectrum of emotions that he himself had found out decades ago. And it broke Lucien's heart. Countless times he had had that impression that Mundy had been living in his own bubble, cut from the rest of the world, and from other people. But now he was also understanding that the lonely hunter in fact shared a strong common point with himself: he was capable of caging up his feelings to an extent that most would say is unhealthy.

The Frenchman smiled. He pulled his lover to lie on his chest, his head in the hollow of his neck, and starting singing, in half whispers:

_ {To the reader, this song is called "Je te vois venir" by Juliette Armanet, it is a translation of "I feel it coming" by Daft Punk. You may want to listen to it while reading!} _

_ "Sans détour oh mon amour, _

_ [Without going around oh my love,] _

_ Voilà j'aimerais faire l'amour. _

_ [I would like to make love.]" _

The Australian sighed. He understood the lyrics and the words went directly to his heart. He kissed his lover's neck.

_ "Toute la nuit, tous les jours, _

_ [All night long, every day] _

_ L'amour avec toi. _

_ [Make love to you.]" _

Mundy moaned. What a lucky man he was. That absolute gorgeous man, who looked like one of those greek statues modeled by God himself, was singing in his ear. And what was he singing? That he wanted to make love to him. Mundy screwed his eyes shut, let his hand roam free on Lucien's skin as he kissed more.

_ "Sous la pluie, mon coeur coule, _

_ [Under the rain, my heart sinks,]" _

The Frenchman could not hold his cries back. His singing was punctuated by moans and meaningful sighs.

_ "Tout contre… ooh… ton coeur, _

_ [All against… ooh... your heart] _

_ Et nos… Uh… destins s'enroulent. _

_ [And our… Uh... fates get intertwined.]" _

As he said so, the Australian turned to straddle his lover. He lost his fingers in Lucien's hair and kissed his chest.

_ "Non, j'en veux encore. _

_ [No, I want more.]" _

Mundy opened his eyes and stopped his kiss. Lucien looked down and he felt it. His lover was on the verge of collapsing, yielding to something he did not know existed. Mundy had put his hand on the knob of a door he had never opened before and he was torn apart. He turned the knob and looked in front of him. His breath cut short. He saw an infinite night sky, scintillating with a million possibilities and distant burning stars. The marksman looked down and saw that there was no floor, he would have to float or fly, swim or glide. 

**_J'en veux encore._ **

**_[I want more.]_ **

The words resonated in the Australian's head like the sound of deafening church bells, again and again. The Frenchman underneath him had remained silent. Lucien knew what was happening in Mundy's head, the debate, the tear that was ripping him apart. He did not want to interfere, he had done enough. Now, the rest of the events of that cold morning were to be completely determined by Sniper's decision. 

Devour or kiss. Yield or resist. Animal or man?

Mundy raised his head and looked at Lucien's face. His eyes were hypnotic, like a panther's. His silver hair flowed beautifully and his lips… They were wet after all the kissing, and slightly swollen. He licked them, staring at his lover, and Mundy felt something shatter within him. A door? A barrier? A fence? Something that was holding him back broke and a bolt of lightning travelled from  _ down there _ , jolting in his limbs everywhere, even the tip of his tongue. He felt hungry somehow, he was craving his lover  _ entirely _ . Oh that was it, something clicked in that slow movement of Lucien's tongue, something blew up and away. He hadn't realised it but Mundy's jaw had dropped and his pupils were open wide, like a cat in the dark.

Lucien smiled after his tongue had brushed his upper lip from left to right and Mundy wanted to see it again! No! He wanted to  _ feel _ it again! He slid up again quickly and kissed the Frenchman, diving in with his tongue, looking for the Frenchman's. He found it and danced with it for a long time and  _ that was it. _

Mundy hadn't decided to walk through that door and into that space. No. He had flung that bloody door open and had jumped in a free fall through it, into the immense warm and empty space where only the glimmering stars guided his way. He opened wide arms and let his emotions, like warm colourful winds take the lead. Joy and love, winds of yellow and dark red circled him, sending the black gust of sadness and frustration so far away, they did not exist anymore. But there was a new colour, a new feeling, one he had never really felt before. As he fell he saw it surging upwards towards him, and was only a tiny spot in the distance at first now grew to be a majestic, bright white flurry. And Mundy was falling while it was surging upwards.

When he first met it, there was a loud explosion, it deafened him and created a massive white splash in this new cosmos that Mundy was discovering. The explosion generated a strong shockwave that propagated circularly around him, like the ripples from a pebble someone tossed in a peaceful lake. Only the pebble was Mundy, and the lake was something yet to be discovered, studied and named. What  _ was _ it? What should he call it? All he knew was that that white vapor wave was fresh and powerful. It was actually strong enough to stop Mundy's fall and push him with it, surging upwards. 

Mundy kissed his way down and stopped at Lucien's chest again, but this time, he would do it.  _ He would do it all. _ He stared at Lucien's nipple and finally decided to flick it with his tongue. 

"Ooh… Mundy…"

The Frenchman arched his back up and the Australian smiled devilishly. He played with it, with the tip of his tongue, traced circles around it, while his fingers were busy with the other one. Lucien bent his head backwards, burying it lower in the pillows. 

Mundy had lost not his mind, but his  _ humanity. _ He had turned into an animal, and a hungry one at that. He lapped at Lucien's skin eagerly, tasted, touched and grabbed, sometimes with his fingers, sometimes with his lips. The Frenchman's head had been sent to spin a long time ago. 

"Mon Dieu Mundy… Oooh…."

[My God Mundy… Oooh…]

The Australian slid back up, licking his lover's neck. 

"Mmmh…"

He then rubbed his wanting masculinity against his lover's and the Frenchman slid a hand in his hair, grasping firmly.

"Oh oui… Mundy…!"

[Oh yes… Mundy…!]

The Australian then slid down and settled between his lover's legs. The Frenchman was panting. He did not know Mundy could tease him so well. The wild wolf slid his hands from Lucien's knees up, slowly, until he reached the top. He then pushed his lover's legs apart. Lucien raised his head off the pillows and looked down. He saw his body, utterly bewitched by his lover's love spell, standing at attention and his demand for more was leaking from his needy extremity. 

Mundy smiled proudly. He put a finger at that pink end and wiped its demand quickly. Lucien gasped and his hips jerked up in a spasm, without him being able to control it. The Frenchman was at a total loss as to what could happen now. He, who was in the habit of  _ knowing _ , anticipating, calculating, was  _ at a loss… _ His jaw had dropped but now he smiled. Wasn't that exciting! Mundy was managing what no one, not even that wretched woman, had  _ ever _ managed to do: 

_ Lucien was being surprised. _

The man who was old and experienced enough to know more and better, that man whose trade was to know  _ what people don't want him to know. _ He had absolutely no idea what was happening. And he  _ utterly adored it! _

Mundy licked his lover's begging for more just a bit and stopped. 

"S'il te plaît, Mundy, encore… S'il te plaît…"

[Please, Mundy, more… Please…]

Hearing the Frenchman beg for more made the Australian hot from his toes to his ears, which he felt were burning. He laughed with a growl and put his tongue against it again, lapping quickly and stopping sharp.

"Aaaah! MON DIEU!"

Lucien grasped the bedsheets left and right, digging his nails in them. 

"Hehehe, you're  _ mine _ , Lucien.  _ Mine and mine alone." _

The Australian answered, groaning, and it set Lucien's soul on fire. Hearing that bewitching voice claiming him as his made his head spin and the Frenchman let his head collapse on the pillows. He lost contact with his legs, whatever happened was completely out of his control.

Mundy licked it again quickly.

"Ooh… please, please Mundy…!"

The Australian smiled deviously as Lucien's  _ begging masculinity _ throbbed to try and feel the contact with that enchanting tongue again. Mundy raised his eyebrows. He was slowly realising how much Lucien  _ craved _ to have him…

He licked again, but this time lasciviously, taking his time. 

"Oooh mooon Dieuuu…!"

[Ooooh myyyy Gooood…!]

Lucien felt like he could pass out. Never had he felt that in his life. No one had ever managed to make him feel like that, not one of his countless conquests had achieved that. In more than 40 years of existence and twice or three times that number of conquests, no one did to him what Mundy, the shy Aussie bloke, the inexperienced repressed romantic man was doing. 

Mundy then took it in his mouth, sucking shyly at the tip before putting more of it in his mouth. What surprised him is that, in that situation Lucien would clearly be the one who should be enjoying the most, but no. Mundy was loving it, everything about it he loved. The taste of it, the soft purrs of his lover, and what he was seeing… Ha! The most handsome man his eyes ever crossed was  _ begging him for more _ …! What planet is this? What reality is that? Where and when was this all happening?! It was not in his dreams, it was not at night in the solitude of his van that he was imagining it to release some tension and sleep. No!  _ No! _ He was actually doing it.  _ Bloody hell! _

Mundy enjoyed what was in his mouth way too much, he kept a hand on his lover's thighs and with his other one, he explored beneath… He touched the fragile twin stars under the comet and the Frenchman's eyes snapped open. He was panting, breathing erratically, desperate for oxygen as the sweat dripped down his brow, his mouth wide open, his eyebrows arched up.

Lucien was at his most vulnerable. He was falling in his own space, tumbling round and round, not knowing where he had come from and where he was going. It all looked the same around him. The Australian, far away below him, was still surging upwards thanks to those wings he had taken from that powerful white gust that he had named  _ freedom. _ Yes, Mundy now understood, that new emotion was freedom. Freedom to be himself, to be with the object of his desires, to love him and make love to him. He was surging upwards, his mind set to catch his lover in his arms and make him fly up too. His wings flapped, again and again, his hair flying before his forehead as the air swished under him.

"Let yerself go, I’ll take care of everything."

Mundy slid his hand to touch Lucien's. The Frenchman unclenched his fist from the bedsheets and let his lover's fingers slide around his. He gripped them firmly. 

"There, there, I'm here."

The Australian had finally caught Lucien in his arms. The Frenchman held on to his angel as he made him fly upwards swiftly, his long hair flowing under the wind.

Lucien relaxed and Mundy took more of  _ it _ in his mouth, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until he had it all.

"Ooh, mon amour… je vais… je…"

[Oh my love… I will… I…]

If he had been able to, Mundy would have smiled. He worked a bit more and felt the spasms of the pending liberation coming. Lucien tightened his grip on his lover's hand, while trying to breathe, when his lover backed off. The Frenchman raised his head up in a flash, not understanding why Mundy had decided to stop when he was so close to the end. What he saw terrified him as well as it thrilled him. The Australian was smiling, his pointy canines shining in the dim light of the night lamp, as he stared at his lover in the eye. 

"Non, non, please come back, I'm very close, s'il te plaît…"

[Please]

Mundy smile changed into a devilish smirk. He grabbed Lucien's begging member between his index and his thumb and lapped at it. 

"Oooh… Nnnnh! Please!"

He smiled and did it again.

"Mundy, Mundy, Mundy! Oooh!"

Lucien was sweating heavily, his long hair stuck to his skin as he was begging in French, in English and in the trembling of his hard member. He was panting, his chest inflating and deflating erratically, reacting to both the surges of the pleasures that Mundy was controlling as well as his efforts to not faint of sheer eagerness.

"Roight, now you may."

Mundy took it all in his mouth again and in a few twists of the tongue, Lucien's body tensed up as he dug his heels in the bed, thrusting his hips forward and contracting his abs. He gritted his teeth hard, clenched his jaw and cried. 

" _ Aaaargh! Aah…! Ooh…! Oh mon Dieu, Mundy!" _

His muscles contracted everywhere like waves crashing on the shore. He tightened his grip on Mundy's hand in rhythm As the tremors of the end of the storm passed, his body relaxed, slowly. His legs went cold and he couldn't feel them. Lucien looked down at Mundy and saw him gulping down with a smile. The Frenchman then threw his head back and let it collapse on the pillows, closing his eyes.. Mundy went to his lover's fatigued masculinity and lapped at it. 

"Hssss, ooh, c'est-ah! C'est fragile Mundy, s'il te plaît fais attention…!"

[Hssss, ooh, it's-ah! It's sensitive Mundy, please be gentle…!]

Lucien hissed as the Australian licked slowly, not to tease, but to heal, as he would lick a cut on his finger. He did so slowly, paying attention to not brush his tongue too hard against it, but just enough to massage it. 

"Aaah… Oui… Mmh… Merci…"

The Australian stared at it for a while and watched it become limp again. He then left a quick peck on it and moved up, to lie next to his lover, curling an arm around him. 

"I.. can't feel my legs…" said the Frenchman, his eyes still closed and panting. Mundy smiled. He went to his lips and left a long kiss. 

"Mmmh… Thanks, luv'."

"Non, thank you… I don't know what all that was, but it was amazing."

Lucien wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him to lie on top of himself. The Australian obeyed and put his head in the hollow of the Frenchman's neck. Silence fell until they both said, at the same time:

"I love ya."

"Je t'aime."

They both smiled. 

"Mmmh…"

Lucien squeezed Mundy tighter in his arms. 

"You alroight?"

"I've never been better."

"Bah…"

"Non, I'm not exaggerating. Mundy, I mean what I say. Of all the people, men or women, I have made love with, I have never felt things as strongly as I did this morning with you."

He paused for an instant. 

"Are you really sure you never did this with another man before?"

"Oh yeah, I wouldn't forget. I-I've wanted it countless times, but I never did cause… Heh, I'm shy…"

"I'm all the more lucky then."

Lucien kissed his lover's head. 

"So… uh… I mean I uh… you…"

The Frenchman smiled. The wild wolf had definitely disappeared and Mundy was back to being the  _ shy Aussie bloke. _

"Take a deep breath, mon amour."

The Australian obeyed and took a second to collect his thoughts to turn them into a string of words. 

"So, you uh…  _ liked the animal?" _

Lucien raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh, more than that. You did what no one managed to do so far in my life."

"Oh?"

"You  _ surprised _ me."

Mundy smiled and blushed. 

"And I do not say this lightly. In more than forty years of existence, no one ever managed what you just did. Believe me, I've had countless partners and none of them made beg like-"

Mundy smacked his hand in front of Lucien's mouth.

"Oi, oi, oi, I get it! No need to say more!"

"Hahahaa!"

The Frenchman laughed.

"The wild wolf is definitely gone, then, mon amour?"

"The what?"

Lucien kissed his lover's head. 

"You."

"Me? A wild…? Oh… Wow… I'd never have thought that…"

"And I'm as impressed as you are, but I'm no doubt the happiest. But please, tell me, will I ever get the privilege to see that wolf again?"

"Mh… I don't know, he might come back. But not today, that's for sure, he sucked the life out of me."

"Well, you sucked the-"

Again, Mundy censored Lucien's sentence with the palm of his hand.

"Oi! Crickey…! Some dirty mouth you got there…! Blimey!"

The Frenchman wiggled his eyebrows. 

"And don't give me that look! You dirty Frenchie!"

Mundy removed his hand. 

"Dirty? Maybe, but you can't resist it…!"

Mundy rolled his eyes up and smiled. Silence fell for a moment. Lucien was toying his lover's hair while the latter just enjoyed his comfy pillow, or the Frenchman's chest, same difference. 

"There was this bloke."

Lucien raised a curious eyebrow.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Oof! What a chapter! I hope you have enjoyed it :) 

Please do let me know if you liked it and/or would like to see more of these  _ extremely spicy _ chapters :)

Mega thanks to the discord crew as always and feel free to join the Lundy Lovers server if you want (and are of age!) :D

Special thanks to my dear friend Deathtothecrows  _ (also, 'pyjamas' is the British spelling, you pumpkin! 'Pajamas' is the American one! ;P)  _ for his patience in editing this :)

Stay tuned for number 34!

  
  
  
  



	34. Chapter 34

"There was this bloke."

Lucien raised a curious eyebrow. 

"I-I met him in a bar… Back then, I was playin' in pubs to get some money. It wasn't much but eh, made it easier for me to go around and have a bit of life on me own, not dependin' too much on my parents."

The Frenchman pulled the blanket up on him and his lover as he started to feel the cold on his naked skin. He continued to stroke Mundy's hair.

"So I met with that man on a random night really. And he was so different from me…! He could go and talk to anyone, poof! Just like that! He was a bit older than me, by only a couple of years. He had come to town on a holiday, he wasn't from Australia, nah."

"Where was he from?"

"America."

"Ah."

"Y-yeah, he was… Oh, he was gorgeous…"

" _Ahem."_

Lucien cleared his throat loudly. 

"Roight, roight, of course you're more handsome, that's not the point!"

"Maybe, but it is good to make it clear nonetheless. Now, pray continue and I shall not interrupt."

Mundy smiled. 

"So yeah, he was really good looking. He was blond, with blue eyes and amazing hair, quite long, I'd say about the length of your hair now. I was playing the sax that night and as usual, when I was done with the band, I just sat at a table with a beer. As the hours passed, my table emptied, the guys from my band went to dance with some sheilas and I was left alone with me beer. I looked at it and realised the bottle was empty. So I went to the bar and asked for another one. And that's when he came out of nowhere and ordered the same beer as I did. I didn't think much of it, but because I could feel it in my guts, y'know… I-I felt that… Well…"

"He caught your eye? "

"Y-yeah. I just stared in front of me and tried to ignore his presence… But I do remember what happened as clearly as if it was today."

'Hey, you come here often?'

'Y-yeah.'

I turned my head to face him. 

'Oh, you're the sax player right?'

'Yeah, that's me.'

'Very cool instrument, the sax. And you got some talent there!'

The bartender brought us our beers. He raised his.

'Cheers!"

'Cheers, mate.'

He took a sip and started talking about himself. He was some kind of journalist and had been sent to Australia for his job. But when I really felt something grip me from my guts was when he told me that he was preparing a documentary on the typical species that we find in Australia. He talked about animals with such passion… I-I was speechless really. He was gorgeous, had a passion for wild animals _and he was talking to me_? 

Lu', that night, neither of us slept. When the bar closed, I offered to take him back to his place. He accepted and when he saw I had a van, he-he got so excited! He said it would be ideal for him cause then he could have everything he needed while being close to the animals. I told him I knew a few places with really rare species. He looked at me with eyes as big as Hootsy's! 

'I can take you there tomorrow if you want?'

'Why not now?'

'What? It's the middle of the bloody night, mate?!'

'What's stopping you? Got better plans for the night?'

Oh Lu', he said that with such a voice… I looked at him and he smiled. I accepted and drove for a couple of hours or so. On the way, we shared our experiences and anecdotes, we showed our scars and bites, ah… We talked about the types of beer we like, how Australian ones were different from American brands. And then he told me he didn't have much of a family, no siblings, nothing much to tie him to the US... I-I really thought that life had blessed me with that bloke. Fate literally took him from the other end of the world and dropped him in my van, just like that! 

Fair enough, I thought. Life did the biggest half of the job. Now _I_ had to do the other one. 

I parked somewhere calm and as soon as he exited the van, he looked up. 

'Woah, look at the sky! It's fuckin' beautiful!'

'Hehehe, that's somethin' else than yer bloody mess of a grey sky, innit?'

He shoved me with his elbow. 

'Hey! My sky doesn't have as many stars but, y'know, it's cause we got a lot of factories and stuff!'

He sat down on the dusty ground. The plain was calm and empty. Even on the road behind us, no one came to pass. We were alone under the moon and the billion stars. I sat next to him. 

'So, what's your name?'

'Mundy.'

'Nice to meet you Mundy, I'm Patrick, call me Pat'.'

'N-nice to meet ya too, Pat'.'

We shook hands, his was confident and strong, mine was moist and shaking. We looked up at the stars and stayed silent for a while. 

'Mundy?'

'Y-yeah?'

'You're a bit of a shy guy, ain't ya?'

'Ah, yeah, that's true. I-I'm quite shy.'

'I like that. And you're a nice man too."

'Oh, uh, thanks, y-you're nice too.'

He turned his face to look at me, his eyes stared at me for a while, in the dead of night and I felt my heart was going to burst out of my chest. He must have seen my lips shake, or maybe he felt them from far away. He bent on his side and… And he… He put his lips on mine.

Lu', my head blew up on the inside, my stomach felt all funny and everything inside me was buzzing! 

He stayed on my lips for quite a while, and I just melted there, like an ice cream left outside in summer. When he withdrew, I slowly opened my eyes. 

'Let's go in.' He said.

I nodded and followed him at the back of my van. We slipped in and I thought we'd spend the dream night together. Uh… I don't really know how to say this but… I-I… uh…"

Lucien felt something odd in his lover's tone of voice.

"But what mon amour? What happened?"

The Frenchman felt his lover's nails dig in him. He frowned, not understanding what was happening, but gave Mundy the time he needed to find his words.

"Lu'... He wanted to do things and-and I wasn't ready for that. I-I refused b-but he insisted…"

Mundy sniffed and that's when Lucien felt it, like a dagger through his chest. He held his lover tight. 

"It… It was horrible. He insisted that I'll like it. I repeated that I-I didn't want any of it. B-but he forced me. Or he tried at least. I had driven far from everything and he was in my van with me, I just couldn't escape, Lu'..."

Lucien felt his lover's grip on him tighten. He put a hand on his lover's brow and brushed his hair away. 

"Mon amour, je suis là maintenant, c'est fini."

[My love, I'm here now, it's over.]

Mundy sniffed again and Lucien felt a warm drop land on his chest. 

"He wanted to force me, Lu', he…"

Lucien frowned. Had he been free to roam the world and not forced to stay in the base, he would have tracked down that Patrick and he would have made him pay, _dearly._

"Don't tell me if you don't want to. I don't want to f-"

"No, someone has to know… No one knows this and-and you need to know because…"

He sniffed. 

"It's since then that I never felt anything for anyone anymore. It's because of him. And y-you broke it."

"I broke what?"

"The curse, the bloody curse. It's been years that I last… Uh…. That…"

"Mon amour if you can't say it, think it. I'm always here and I'm listening."

Mundy sniffed a couple of times. 

_It's since then that I last… well… went hard down there…_

Lucien opened wide eyes and his pupils shrank. He wanted to ask how on _Earth_ that was possible. But he didn't want to offend his lover. So he kept his mouth shut on that. 

"Mon amour, may I ask, did you give him what he wanted in the end?"

"N-no. No, thank God. I threw a couple punches but he kept on smiling until he grabbed my wrist mid-swing and twisted it. I bent down under the pain and when I raised my head again, he slapped me across the face with the back of his hand. My nose broke under the hit and it was bleeding quite a lot. He released me, seeing the blood dripping on the floor and thinking I was too weak to react. But back then I had just one kukri on the wall and it proved to be enough. I jumped to the wall, took it and slashed through him wide. I got him diagonally from the face and across his hole chest and stomach, slicing through his t-shirt... The cut was not very deep, but enough to show him that I'd do more if he came back at me. And then he left."

Lucien sighed.

"What that monster did to you is not forgivable."

Mundy gulped down hard. 

"When we're done with Mann Co., I will find him and-"

The Australian sprang up and looked at the Frenchman right in the eye. His own eyes were red and slightly swollen. 

"No! No, please, Lu', I don't want to see him I-I don't want to have anything to do with him please, no!"

"Mundy, of course I will not involve you in this. He made you suffer more than enough. _I_ will find him, and _I_ will visit him. And _he will pay."_

The Frenchman said, coldly. 

"Actually, I don't even need to do anything myself. I will arrange the matter today or tomorrow. Give me a week, maybe two, maximum, and _he will rest forever._ "

"No!"

Lucien looked at his lover, curious. 

"No, d-don't kill him. It's bloody useless."

"That is true. I will then just make sure that his family name stops with him."

Mundy opened wide, horrified eyes. 

"He deserves nothing less."

"I'm not tellin' you all this for that."

"Oh?"

"I'm telling you all this 'cause… 'cause…"

The Australian wiped his face off his tears. 

"Because you're the reason I feel alive and… _normal_ now. Lu', I've spent _years_ bein' afraid of-of I what feel here…"

Mundy pointed at his chest. 

"...and I just couldn't feel anything for anyone. Yeah well, I'd see a handsome bloke and I'd freeze, I'd feel bad, my stomach would turn and I'd feel nauseous. I-I remember the first time I came across someone like that after Patrick... I literally had to go out and throw up…"

Mundy paused and sniffed. 

"I-I couldn't eat for days, my parents were worried and I-I couldn't tell them… It was horrible, Lu', horrible…"

The Frenchman weighed the words and the tone of voice that Mundy was using. He cupped his lover's face with his hands.

"Mundy."

The Australian, lying on his lover's chest, raised his head and met his lover's eyes.

"I will say this and will repeat it as many times as you need. I love you. That doesn't just mean that I want to kiss you or do more intimate things. Non. I love you _like a man_ . I will make sure you're the happiest, all the time. I take it as my responsibility and if anything threatens you, or touches even just one hair on your head, _I_ will be there. Mundy, you will never live this again, _ever_ , d'accord?"

[Alright?]

Mundy's eyes were glistening.

"Y-you don't see me as a…?"

"A what?"

"A… A sissy?"

"Of course not! You're a grown man, handsome, strong, elegant. You're also extremely kind-hearted. You're irresistible and that's what he also saw in you. But he abused you, Mundy. And that can't go unpunished. I hear you, mon amour, and will not do what I said I would, not because I don't want to, but because _you_ asked. And we come back to what I said first, you asked and _I love you,_ so I gladly oblige. I want to make you as happy as you can possibly be. And again, _je t'aime."_

[I love you.]

Mundy's tears flowed down. He hugged his lover tenderly. 

"Thank you and sorry…"

"Don't apologise. I'm here for you and actually, I should be the one thanking you."

"Uh?"

"I can only imagine what courage it takes to talk about such a thing to someone. Also, it must have troubled you to, well, fall in love with me. In fact, that explains the nightmares."

Mundy's jaw dropped. 

"Oui! Think about it, your body slowly falls in love and your head knows, it remembers what happened last time you fell for someone. So it's merely trying to warn you against me and if during the day the physical attraction towards me wins, during the night, that's a clear field for your head to ask you to be careful about this. It makes a lot of sense."

"Blimey…"

It indeed made sense to the Australian, as if the stars in the sky had aligned. 

"Lu', I love you, I love you like you have no idea. Please never leave me."

Lucien smiled. 

"I will leave only if you ask me, I have absolutely no intention to walk away from you. I love you too much to do that."

The Australian raised his head and put his forehead against the Frenchman's. The latter wiped the drying tears off his lover's cheeks and smiled tenderly. He grabbed Mundy's lip in his and they locked in place for a long time with seemed like the blink of an eye for the both of them. 

_\-- A bit later --_

Mundy wrapped his arms around his lover, from behind, and rested his head on his lover's shoulder, watching him cook an omelette. 

"Smells nice…"

"Me or the omelette?"

"Both I guess."

"You _guess?"_

"Yeah, nah, I meant it for the omelette but you smell nice too."

"Oh I see, you pay more attention to the omelette than to me now. I see what how it is…!"

The Frenchman was teasing his lover and Mundy rolled his eyes up. 

"Mate, don't take it badly, I just said that-"

"I am having a sulk anyway!" The Frenchman interrupted his lover and pretended to not pay attention to him anymore. 

"Wh-what? Eh… Okay, roight, I apologise Lu'. You smell nice, not the omelette."

"Are you saying my omelette smells bad now?" Lucien smirked as he served the dish on a plate. 

"Oi! That's not what I said! I said-argh! You're tirin', ya know that roight?"

The Frenchman spun on his heels to face his lover. 

"Oui, but I am only being a pain _to you_ , and that's all because I love…"

He raised his index and tapped on the tip of his lover's nose. 

"...you!"

Mundy blinked and smiled. He took the coffee mugs and brought them to the small table.

Lucien sat opposite him and put the plate with the omelette in the middle, along with the cutlery. Both men started having breakfast, sipping their coffees and sharing the omelette from the same plate.

"I like it when you wear my shirt."

"Oh…"

The Australian opened wide surprised eyes and blushed. 

"Uh… Really?"

"Mh-hm." 

Mundy hid his blush as best as he could behind his mug of coffee as he sipped it, but of course Lucien saw it. They exchanged a conniving smile and continued with their breakfast.

"So uh… You feel rested a bit?"

"Oui, much better. Still a bit tired, but much better. What about you?"

"Very good, yeah."

"And no nightmares, non?"

The Frenchman smiled.

"Well, no actually, not last night."

"I have a very light sleep. If you were to have a nightmare, I would have noticed it and woken up. Also, after what we discussed, it doesn't surprise me. I would say it fills me with joy."

The Frenchman slid his hand on the table and held his lover's.

"Oh…"

"I made sure that you were always in my arms and it all went well."

Mundy smiled.

"Cheers, luv' and sorry to be so… ugh, to need so much of yer patience. I wish I could be different."

" _Avec plaisir._ And I don't wish that. It's stupid. I wouldn't have you any other way. Maybe if you were different, I wouldn't love you as much, or perhaps I wouldn't even look at you."

_[My pleasure.]_

Breakfast was eaten and Lucien soon found himself washing the dishes. Meanwhile, Mundy went to the bathroom. A moment later, the Australian came to help his lover and wiped the dishes, asking where to put everything back in its place. It was insignificant but as Lucien answered his lover, he felt something inside him click. He was seeing himself hand those plates or cutlery to the man who was wearing his shirt open, the man he was sharing his nights with, the man he wanted to share his everything with. He felt blessed as if God had decided that it had been enough. From now on, that poor soul should live in happiness. He had had his fair share of chaos and disappointment in his life. Now was the time to be happy and washing the dishes with his lover filled him with that nonsensical joy. No one is happy to wash the dishes. It's a boring necessity. But Lucien was delighted and he enjoyed every second of it as if he was living it in slow motion, each glance exchanged with the object of all his desires diffusing a sweet warmth in his chest. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I-I… I mean…"

Lucien washed a cup and handed it to Mundy. The latter wiped it with a tea towel while staring at it. He was visibly trying to sort out the words in his confused head. 

"Prends ton temps."

[Take your time.]

"Ah… Forget it. It's fine."

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah, I can't say it."

Lucien smiled as he handed a couple forks to Mundy. 

"If you can't say it, think it."

"Yeah but… I mean. It's a weird thought. It's fine."

The Frenchman handed his lover a knife. The latter took it but Lucien did not let go of it. Mundy looked up in his eyes. 

"S'il te plaît. Dis-moi ce que tu penses, mon amour. Tu peux tout me dire."

[Please. Tell me what you think about, my love. You can tell me anything.]

The Australian sighed. 

"Roight…"

He put the knife in the drawer and started thinking in his head. 

_I was starin' at you while you washed stuff and… Argh, why do I have to think about weird things like that…? Eh… I-I just looked at you there, with your satin dressing gown, the shirt of your pyjama half open, your long hair and… And your eyes. They glisten beautifully, they-they're just gorgeous. You're gorgeous. I just feel so bloody lucky. I feel so lucky that you like me._

"You are not lucky. You just deserve the best and, pardon my lack of modesty but, I am quite good with my partners."

_Yeah, exactly. I feel so happy and lucky, it's like there's this part of me that fears that something bad will happen. Not that I want it to happen but…_

"I know what you mean."

They finished with the dishes. Lucien took the tea towel from Mundy and put it away. He then took his lover by the hand and went on the sofa, in front of the fireplace. 

"Continue thinking."

_I don't even remember where I was…_

Mundy paused for a second and frowned.

_Ah yes! Starin' at yer eyes it…_

The Australian looked at his lover's eyes intensely. His lips parted.

_Gosh you've got some eyes… I don't know where you got them from but they're very impressive. It's like you can see inside my head with them._

"Well, I _am_ more or less reading your thoughts…"

_Oh, Lucien I… I've always dreamt of finding someone who could understand me. But I've never thought that that bloke would be as… as…. Like you._

The Frenchman smiled. 

"If that's any comfort, I would never have thought I could fall for a man like you either."

"What d'you mean?"

"No offense mon amour, but a lonely man who lives in a van and throws jars of… Ugh, the mere thought of it disgusts me."

Mundy was about to talk back but his lover raised his index finger and continued. 

"But then I look at you and…"

He licked his lips and bit his lower one.

"... Well, let's say that you have _a certain effect_ on me."

Mundy blushed and lowered his head. 

"Thanks, luv'."

Lucien smiled. Mundy looked through the window. 

"Oh look! It's snowing again!"

"Oh, yes it seems so."

"Let's dress up and go outside!"

"Why?"

"I'll show you how to aim _with snowballs_."

"Oh, you want _a cold war?"_

Mundy rolled up his eyes as Lucien left the sofa.

_The 'hot' war you already won, so…_

Lucien looked back. 

"I can still hear you think, Headshot Man."

"Bloody hell..!"

"Now, I need a shower."

"Again?"

"Are _you_ seriously asking?"

"Didn't you take one already this mornin'?"

"Oui, I did, but I had to fight a wild wolf too this morning and that made me sweat terribly badly _for some reason."_

Lucien walked in direction of the bathroom. Mundy blushed and smiled. He got off the sofa too and walked after his lover.

"In fact I might join ya, Baguette Knife, I'd need a good shower too."

Lucien stopped at the door and turned to face Mundy.

"Can't I have any privacy in my own flat?"

The Australian caught up with him.

"Says the one who can read my bloody mind!"

"Fair enough, you have a point."

Mundy opened the bathroom door. 

"After you, _mon amour."_

Lucien was about to enter. Upon hearing his lover, he stopped sharp, spun on his heels and looked up at Mundy, his pupils the size of a planet. 

"What did you just say?"

" _Mon amour._ Sorry if I butchered the pronunciat-mh!"

Lucien grabbed Mundy by the collar of his shirt and dragged him in the shower, _by his lips._

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

Please do leave a comment to let me know what you thought of that one :) 

As always, thanks to the people on discord and _bonus ducks_ to my dear friends Deathtothecrows for his patience in editing my scribbles :) 

See you around for 35!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	35. Chapter 35

"Roight, we good?"

Mundy was about to open the main door of Lucien's suite. The Frenchman was tightly wrapped up in his coat and scarf. He looked up at his lover. 

"Oh, w-wait, luv', your hair… It's-wait…"

With awkward fingers, Mundy pushed the rebel front white lock of hair which was sticking out of the mask underneath it. The Frenchman closed his eyes and smiled to appreciate his lover's touch on his face.

"Roight, w-we're good now."

"Oui, let us proceed, and I can show you what I can do with the snow…!"

Mundy opened the door and smiled. They both exited the flat, hand in hand. They crossed the corridor. 

"Oh hey Snipes and Spy!"

Mundy froze. He dropped Lucien's hand in a flash but the Frenchman tightened his grip, not letting Mundy's hand slip away, and smiled. 

"Bonjour, Scout."

[Hello, Scout.]

"You're goin' out?"

"Y-yeah, gotta enjoy the snow before it goes away."

"Cool! I'll probably come too 'cause a-achoo!"

Spy grimaced. 

"Bless ya mate."

"Thanks pally!"

The young man coughed a couple of times.

"You should stay indoors, Scout. Your cold in definitely getting worse. Go and see Medic, he should be able to help."

"Oh no, I'm not goin' to see that freak just for a cold! And I hate takin' pills!"

Spy smirked.

"Oh, don't worry, he won't give you pills…"

"Oh?"

"... But syringes!"

Scout gasped. 

"Oh man! That's worse!"

Spy laughed at his younger colleague and Sniper shoved him soflty. 

"C'mon, Spy… Listen, mate, you really should go'n see the Doc'."

"Nah, I'll find some aspirin or somethin'..."

Spy rolled his eyes up and smiled.

"As you wish, young man…"

Spy patted the young man's head as he walked past him.

"Have fun  _ Sniper _ !" Said Scout, insisting that he wasn't wishing well to his French colleague.

"Thanks, mate!"

Lucien and Mundy exited the base. The sun was shining brightly despite the snowfall and it warmed their hearts. They walked in the snow, which piled up to their knees.

"Ha! Look at all this snow!"

They walked passed Sniper's van and kept on getting further from the base. Mundy raised his arms and spun around. 

"It's bloody brilliant!"

He turned to face his lover again and- 

_ Poof! _

"Oi! I wasn't ready! You're cheatin'!" Said the Australian, as he wiped his face off the snow his lover had thrown at him. 

"Element of surprise, Headshot Man! It's as important in close combat as it is in snowball fights! Now, show me how  _ good _ your aim is, will you?"

"Oh mate, you looked for this!"

Sniper crouched down and rolled a ball of snow between his gloved hands quickly. He closed one eye and threw it at the Frenchman's head. Spy turned his face and bent backwards slightly, dodging the cold projectile with ease. 

"What?!"

Sniper rolled another snow ball and threw it. Again, the Frenchman dodged it with ease. 

"How do you do that?!"

"Your aim is so good it makes it easy to dodge! I know exactly where you're aiming so I know where the ball will end and I can avoid it! I will show you how to proceed…"

Spy turned his back to his lover and crouched to take some snow. 

"First you need to gather some snow, make sure there are no ice shards in it as it might hurt the face of the irresistible man you will throw this at…"

Mundy rolled up his eyes and smiled. The Frenchman stood again, his back still to his lover.

"Then, you roll it into a nice sphere…"

The Australian saw  _ an opportunity. _

"If I can't throw the snow at you…" He whispered as he took the few steps that separated him from his lover.

"You need the sphere to be nice and-aaaaah!"

Sniper leapt at Spy's back, took him from his waist and made him fall on his side, tackling him in the snow. They landed in a thud as the white thick layer absorbed the shock.

"Hahahaaa! If I can't throw the snow at you, then I'll throw you at the snow!"

"What are you talking about, Bushman?! You didn't throw me in the snow, you threw  _ yourself  _ at  _ me!" _

Sniper went on all four and Spy, who was underneath him, turned to face him. 

"Try and tell me you didn't like it…!"

The Frenchman rolled his eyes and smiled. 

"I made the promise that I would never lie to you and I won't break it. So I choose to not answer."

Mundy smiled. 

"Roight, I got my answer."

He looked up quickly and saw that the base was far away, no one was around. The Australian then dived in for a kiss. Both his lips and Lucien's were cold so he stayed there for a bit, to warm them up. When he finally withdrew and opened his eyes, he saw that his lover was smiling, his cheeks turning pink. 

"I love when you blush, you look… adorable."

"Only when I blush?" The Frenchman said, raising an eyebrow and letting his index finger explore his lover's cheek.

"Oh, screw you, Lu'!"

"You wish!"

"I'm trying to make a compliment here!"

"And I'm asking for a bigger one!" 

"Tsssk!"

The Australian stood up and helped his lover up. 

_ I'll show you a bigger one…,  _ Mundy thought to himself. 

"Oh but you have already…"

Mundy opened wide eyes as the Frenchman resumed his speech. 

" _ And I like it…" _

Lucien wiggled his eyebrows and the Australian turned as red as a brick. 

"Don't forget, Bushman, I read you like an open book!"

The Frenchman said as he walked away and tapped his clothes to get rid of the snow.

"Blablabla… Try and dodge this, ya Spook!"

The Australian quickly spun and threw a ball which ended on Spy's shoulder. 

"Oh! How dare you, Bushman!"

"Ahahahaa! Take that ya Baguette-eatin' funny posh man!"

Mundy tried to run away as the Frenchman was rolling another snowball. The snow was so deep that the man with the tall legs just ended up comically leaping repeatedly from one step to the next like a giraffe on roller skates. Lucien threw the snowball and it landed with a poof on the Australian's cheek, exploding in a million bright white flakes.

"Oh, I've never heard you complaining about  _ my _ eating of  _ your  _ baguette!"

"Oi! That's not what I meant! And do you  _ really _ have to say it that bluntly?!"

Another snowball flew but from Mundy to Lucien. The latter ducked and avoided it just on time. He stuck his tongue out to mock his lover. 

"Oi! Ya impolite!"

Another snowball from the Australian.

"I'll make yer mouth shut with snow!"

"You can but try!"

Another snowball from the Frenchman and another  _ poof _ on the Australian's shoulder. 

"Oh I will! And if I can't make it with snow, I'll make it another way!"

"Ha! Well so far, I'm afraid that you're failing miserably in this matter,  _ Monsieur le Tireur de précision!" _

"What ya callin' me?!"

"Sniper!"

"Yeah? I said, what did you just call me?!"

"I called you  _ Sniper _ but in French,  _ mon amour écervelé!" _

[My brainless love!]

"Oooh that's it, mate, you've gone too far now! Playin' the clever bastard  _ in French!" _

Mundy dropped the snowball he had in his hand and started awkwardly leaping in direction of his lover. 

"Non, non, non! Stay away from me, you Vegemite eater! Don't make me fall in the snow again, Bushman!"

"Hahaha! Look at you go with yer tiny legs, I'll catch up with ya and there won't be any possible escape!"

The Frenchman looked over his shoulder and saw the Australian, his arms in front of him and closing the gap between them two. He tried walking faster but the snow was soft such that every step he took made him sink to his knees.

"Here we go!"

"Noooon!"

[Nooooo!]

The Australian tackled his lover again and both fell in the snow. 

" _ Pour l'amour du ciel!" _

"What?!"

"That means 'For the love of God!'... The snow is freezing!"

"I'll keep ya warm…"

Mundy kissed his lover again and nuzzled to access his neck. 

"Mundy, y-your skin is freezing! Don't get to my neck or I'll die of hypothermia! Mundy, are you listening?!"

The taller man pretended not to hear his lover. The Frenchman giggled and tried to push him back but he soon abandoned and let the Australian have his way. The latter kissed him in his neck and his cold mouth and nose tickled the Frenchman.

"Ça chatouille! Mundy! Hohohoho!"

[You're tickling me! Mundy! Hohohoho!]

Mundy looked at Lucien, resting his forehead on the masked man's. 

"Thank you, Lu'."

"Mmh… Non, thank you. I haven't had this much fun in decades…"

Mundy smiled. 

"You cold?"

" _ Un peu." _

[A bit.]

"Wanna get back inside?"

"I won't refuse, but before…"

The Frenchman cupped his lover's face in his hands and pulled him to himself to lock his lips on the Australian's quickly. 

"Roight, let's go, luv'."

"Oui."

_ \-- Spy's suite -- _

Lucien got a change and felt warmer and dry. He stood in front of his tall mirror, in the corner of his smoking room and adjusted his clothes and his hair. 

"Ah, voilà, parfait."

[Ah, there we are, perfect.]

The Frenchman went to his coat, on the coathanger and emptied its pockets. He was looking for his cigarette case and did not find it there.

_ Où est-ce que je l'ai mis…? _

_ [Where did I put it…?] _

He got the keys for his suite out of one pocket and stared at them. Lucien wondered. 

_ Devrais-je…? _

_ [Should I…?] _

And a voice in him said  _ oui. _ So he put on his suit jacket and exited his suite with his key in his hand. 

_ \-- Sniper's room -- _

"Hey mates!"

"Hoo!" 

"Meow!"

Hootsy flew to his master's shoulder while Perle hopped on his desk, next to the door, asking to be petted. 

"Let me just get rid of these clothes, they're soaked wet and I'm freezin'!"

Mundy got a change of clothes and felt much better. 

"Roight, d'you have any food or water left? Ah, we should probably go to Lu's, he has yer food, Pearl, unless you're ok with Hootsy's? Here, try this."

The Australian got Hootsy's food that was in his clothes cupboard at the very top, and put some on the desk. The owl came first and took some in his beak, the sound of him crushing the small cat food tickling Mundy's ear. 

"Have a try, pretty lady. It's cat food anyway, but I'd understand if you preferred your own brand. Lu' must have got you used to fancy stuff."

Mundy scratched her head and she purred under his fingers. Perle went and took a couple seconds to sniff the food. She looked at Hootsy who was feasting on it and took some in her mouth, chewing as loudly as the bird. 

"So, what d'you think? Is it ok? Or shall I bring you to Lu'?"

She looked up at Mundy, meowed and took more in her mouth. 

"I'm glad you like it, pretty lady. I'll let you eat in peace then. I'll go to Lu's and I'll leave the door closed but unlocked. From the desk you should be able to open it and get out. Just try and not leave the door flung wide open when you leave, roight?"

Mundy exited and walked in direction of Lucien's suite. He gave a knock. 

_ \-- Spy's suite -- _

Hearing that familiar knock made his ears prick up. 

"Entre mon amour, c'est ouvert."

[Come in my love, it's open.]

The Australian obeyed and found his lover on the sofa, enjoying a glass of wine and reading a magazine.

"Come have a glass with me."

"What  _ château _ is it this time?"

" _ Domaine des Graves." _

"Ah, yer favourite."

"My favourite, when I'm in a good mood."

Mundy sat next to his lover and took the glass that was waiting on the small table next to the sofa.

"So ya did like being thrown in the snow, hm?"

Lucien rolled his eyes up and snuggled against Mundy. 

"I do, only when it's by you."

The Frenchman rested his head on his lover's shoulder and Mundy started reading with his lover, sipping his wine from time to time. The fire in front of them diffused its slow heat while their mutual contact warmed their hearts inside. Mundy curled an arm on his lover's shoulder and brushed his arm slowly. 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. 

"You're waitin' for someone?"

"Oui, let me take this, please."

Mundy removed his arm and his lover got off the sofa, leaving the magazine in the Australian's hands. A couple minutes later the Frenchman was back at his lover's side. 

"Who was it?"

"Engineer."

The Frenchman pulled his mask off and lightly shook his head for his hair to flow. Mundy stared, his lips parting slightly.

"I asked him to do something for me."

"Ah, okay."

Mundy put the magazine back in Lucien's hands and the Frenchman rested his head on his lover's shoulder again. Silence fell for a while, only interrupted by the flicking of the pages of the magazine. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I love yer hair."

Lucien smiled. 

"Merci, mon amour. Isn't it getting a bit too long?"

[Thank you, my love.]

"Nah, I like it like that. I mean… If you prefer it shorter, go ahead and cut it of course but I like it as it is now."

"A couple decades back, I used to have it so long that I had to tie it in a long ponytail."

Mundy looked down at his lover.

"What? You? A ponytail?!"

"Hm-mh."

"Woah…"

"That was back when I was singing in a restaurant. I cut it short when I entered the special intelligence services, I had to."

"D-d'you have any pictures of you like that?"

Lucien looked up at his lover.

"Well, I do have a couple lying somewhere…"

"Can I see them?"

Lucien hesitated for a second. 

"If you don't want it, it's fine."

"Non, if I don't show you, then whom…? Give me an instant, s'il te plaît."

[Please.]

The Frenchman left the sofa and went to his bedroom. A moment later, he came back with what looked like a very old shoe box in his hands. He stood between his lover and the fire and blew on it. The dust flew in direction of the flames, which gulped it quickly. The Frenchman sat next to his lover and looked him in the end, his hands flat on the box's lid. 

"Mundy, I need to tell you something before I proceed with this box."

Mundy opened wide eyes. Lucien took a deep breath and continued. 

"I… uhm, I asked Engie to do something for you… and me… For us, Mundy."

The Australian listened carefully. 

"I have here with me an object, in this pocket."

Lucien tapped his trousers pocket lightly.

"And I have a question. Now, if the answer to this question is yes, I shall give that small object to you. Otherwise, please just know that it is fine and I understand. However, should you accept, bear in mind that it is not just a physical bit of metal that I offer you, but much more than that,  _ d'accord?" _

[alright?]

Mundy's jaw had dropped. He felt the anxiety creeping up on him as he turned hot and red. 

"Y-yeah…"

" _ Bien _ …"

[Well…]

The Frenchman put a hand in his pocket and took  _ 'the thing' _ out. He clenched his fist on it so that his lover couldn't see it. 

"Give me your hand."

The Australian extended his right hand, palm facing upwards. 

" _ Tiens." _

[Here, take this.]

The Frenchman put his hand above his lover and opened it. A small, metal object fell in his palm. Mundy hardly had any time to look at it that Lucien covered it with his palm. 

"Please, Mundy, before you see it… May I add a few words?"

The Australian's heart was pumping hard.

"Y-yeah I guess…"

The Frenchman raised his eyes to meet with his lover's. 

"I've rarely done this in the past… Actually, I have never done this before, Mundy. I hope I am doing it right. I-I'm sorry if I come across as awkward."

The marksman smiled. 

"Well, for once, it's not me, eh."

The Frenchman softened. 

"I guess so, yeah."

"Can I see what it is now?"

"Oui."

[Yes.]

Lucien removed his hand and Mundy gasped. He put a hand in front of his mouth. 

A silver key with a knife symbol engraved on it shone in the palm of the Australian's hand.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and as please, let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments, it makes  _ a huge _ difference to me :D

Special thanks to the people on discord and Deathtothecrows for his editing :) !

Stay tuned for 36!


	36. Chapter 36

"Lu'..."

Mundy was staring at the key in the palm of his hand. 

"Mon amour, you're always more than welcome to come here but it seems ridiculous that you have to knock and wait for me. You should be able to just walk in."

"I, uh, y-yeah, I mean, uh…"

"Look, if you find it is too early, or you simply want to keep things as they are, I will understand, d'accord?"

[Alright?]

Lucien put his hand on Mundy's cheek and brushed his skin with his thumb slowly. The Australian's eyes were still riveted on the silver shining key. 

"But I love you oh so much…! I find it ridiculous that you don't have access to my flat."

Mundy wordlessly closed his hand on the key and smiled. His head was lowered as he blushed intensely. 

"Does that mean you accept it?"

The Australian nodded. He was speechless. Thoughts were racing in his head but the ideas were flying by so fast that it was impossible for the hunter to put words on them. 

"Merci, mon amour."

[Thank you, my love.]

Silence fell during which Lucien just pulled his lover's face for them to rest their foreheads on each other's. The Frenchman closed his eyes and he heard Mundy as clearly as if the taller man had been speaking out loud.

_ Bugger… I… Thanks, wow… I'm sorry I can't talk, I'm sorry I'm useless like that again. _

Lucien's eyes flashed open. 

"Non, you're far from useless. Never say that, that's a lie. And if I promised you that I would never lie to you, then you should do the same."

Mundy smiled shyly. 

"I didn't mean it as a lie. I-it's true that when something happens to me, I tend to lose my words a bit."

"Oui, I know, and that is perfectly fine with me."

Lucien smiled and added. 

"English is sometimes difficult for me too."

"Nah, yeah, but I'm s'pposed to be speakin' it normally…"

"And you do… As much as I do!"

Lucien winked at his lover and they exchanged a conniving smile. 

"So… that box o'yours…?"

The Frenchman looked at his lap where the shoe box had been waiting all along. 

"Ah, oui! This uhm… This box contains information that is  _ very _ personal. I trust you and confide in you because… Well, I don't want to bring the atmosphere down, but… I think you are my last lover before I-mmh!"

Mundy smacked his hand in front of his lover's mouth. 

"SHUT-! Don't say it! It's-it's… oh, Lu', it's…"

Lucien saw the distress in his lover's eyes. 

"I can't even think of it, it-ah…"

The Australian breathed with difficulty. He released his hand on his lover's mouth and put it flat on his chest to help him breathe. Quickly, the Frenchman put a hand on his back and tried to comfort him.

"Ssshhh, calm down mon amour, shhh, I'm with you, I'm here, I'm with you…"

Mundy grabbed his lover's hand in his and smacked it on his chest, gripping it tightly. He took a moment to catch his breath.

"Mon Dieu… "

"S-sorry…"

"Do you have these, uhm,  _ reactions _ often?" The Frenchman asked. 

"Used to happen more when I was a kid. Now, less so, sorry."

"Don't apologise."

"But I hate it though! I hate that I have to be like that. It's… argh… It's just plain tirin'?! I'd kill to be less sensitive… You have no idea how ridiculous it is. Here I am, the best Sniper you could find, and I have panic attacks, I blush like a sheila and I'm the most sensitive and fragile killer you could ever find!"

"NON!"

Lucien's voice cut the air sharp. 

"Mon amour, stop overthinking it. You are  _ what you are _ ."

"But doesn't it get on yer nerves that I'm like that?"

"Non! Absolutely not! You are the one getting tired and  _ you _ are tiring yourself  _ on your own. _ "

The Australian sighed. He rested his elbows on his thighs and bent over, lowering his head. Lucien kept his hand on his lover's back and bent to put his head against his lover's shoulder. 

"Mundy, I do not care what you are. I  _ love _ what you are. Everything about you I like. You are indeed easily moved, but how is that an issue? I…"

The Frenchman hesitated to say more but Mundy got intrigued. It's not everyday that the handsome man in a suit struggled to find his words. So the Australian pushed his lover.

"You what…?"

Lucien sighed. 

"I, myself, am a hopeless romantic under a thick mask of arrogance."

Mundy smiled.

"Pff… Yeah, you are, it's true."

"But do I make a cheese about it?"

"Do ya what?!"

" _ Faire un fromage _ , make a cheese? It's an expression in French to say 'make a big deal of something originally small'? Don't you have it in English too?"

Mundy burst out laughing and wrapped his arms around his lover. 

"What? You don't say that in English?"

"Of course not! Any expression with the word  _ 'cheese' _ or  _ 'wine'  _ or even  _ 'baguette' _ you can forget, they're very French and we don't have them!"

"What do you say then in that case?  _ 'Don't make a Vegemite toast of it', _ hm? Maybe that's more culturally adequate?"

"Lu'..."

"Or maybe you say,  _ 'don't make a kangaroo of it?' _ "

"Lu'!"

The Frenchman chuckled as he continued. 

"Or maybe you say  _ 'Don't make a koala of it?',  _ hm?"

The Australian laughed. He put his lips on his lover's head and left a kiss. He leant back on the sofa, holding his lover in his arms as he would a teddy bear, dearly. The Frenchman had no choice but to lie on his lover's shoulder.

"I love you so much…"

The Frenchman smirked. 

"I do have that effect on people."

"Oi, who are these people ya have an effect on?"

"Is Monsieur Sniper jealous?" Lucien asked, smirking. 

"Professional curiosity, mate."

"Professional?"

"Yeah well, gotta know whose head I'll decorate with a bullet, y'know…"

"Oh, I see…"

They chuckled and Lucien laid his hand on his lover's chest. The Australian sighed. 

"Cheers, luv'."

"Why?"

"Because you're the only one besides my mum who can take me from one of those moments and make me smile again."

The Frenchman smiled proudly.

"But wait…"

"Oui?"

Lucien raised his head off his lover's chest. 

"You still haven't showed me pictures of you with long hair."

"Ah! Oui! My apologies, I keep on getting distracted  _ by someone… _ "

The Frenchman opened the shoe box and searched through the papers, photos and knick-knacks. 

"Ah! Voilà!"

[Ah! There it is!]

Lucien took one of the photographs and handed it to Mundy. The latter held it close to his face and stared at every detail of the black and white picture. The Frenchman looked so much younger! His hair had no grey or white, but was very long, down under his shoulder and was pitch black. It was tied in a low ponytail and resting on his shoulder. Despite the age of the photograph, one could clearly see the sheen of the light on the Frenchman's silky mane. He was wearing a black suit and bowtie with a white shirt. Ironically enough for him, Lucien looked uncomfortable in that attire. He was standing on a stage, behind a microphone and the suit looked a bit too big for him or not as well adjusted as his ones nowadays were. It made Mundy smile. The young Lucien definitely showed the arrogance and the manners of someone who thinks they're important and should be taken seriously where in fact, he was but a very young adult.

"So, what do you think?"

"You've always been gorgeous then."

Lucien smiled. 

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

The Frenchman had been staring at his lover's face. He saw his eyes scanning every millimetre of the photograph keenly, shining with both the reflection of the nearby flames in the fireplace, and the avid curiosity. He saw Mundy's lips purse in a smile and it warmed his stone heart.

"But which one do you prefer?"

"What d'you mean? Yer both the same man."

"Oui, I know, but should you see a man who looks exactly like that on one hand, and me on the other. Which one would catch you eye?"

"Mate, you're only a kid on that picture. I wouldn't even look at that bloke."

"Oh, wait then… I must have another one somewhere…"

Lucien rummaged through the box again and got another photograph. This time, he had short hair and looked fairly older. He was wearing a dark suit again but this time, he was wearing it proudly, his chin sticking up slightly. His hair was very short on the sides and a bit longer at the top. He was smirking at the camera and looked devilishly handsome. 

"And with this one, hm? That's back when I passed the selection to become a secret service agent."

"You look very proud of yerself!"

"As I should be, I ranked first! They gave me my first professional suit, paid for my haircut and took a picture that I have kept ever since."

"Wow…"

"But that doesn't answer the question."

"Oh, yeah, which one would I prefer…"

Mundy put the picture next to Lucien's face and looked at both repeatedly. The Frenchman tried to imitate his smirk back then and added a wink. 

"Don't-! Argh! Don't wink! It's not fair cause young Lu' can't wink at me!"

"I just did."

"Yeah but-! I meant the one on the picture can't be all seductive and-and all that!"

Lucien's smirk grew bigger. 

"Oh and screw you, Lu'! It's too hard to choose!"

The Frenchman burst out laughing and the Australian smiled. He loved his lover's laughter. It was very  _ French _ somehow, and Lucien did have the tendency to snort softly to catch his breath; a habit that Mundy had always found repelling, until Lucien stole his heart.

"But one thing is for sure, I'm glad I met with at least one of you two, if that makes sense."

"I personally wish you had met with the one on the photograph." Lucien said as Mundy handed him the picture back. 

"Oh?"

"I wouldn't have wasted my time with… Well,  _ quite a few people _ … I wouldn't have overworked for a couple of decades and I would have settled in time."

"Tss, tss, tss…" Mundy shook his head. 

"Everythin' you just said was wrong." Mundy started counting on his fingers. 

"You didn't waste yer life, you didn't overwork and you did settle,  _ but in yer own time. _ " 

Lucien smiled, albeit sadly. 

"I guess you're right, mon amour."

"Y'know, you should look at it the other way around."

"How?"

"It's like… oh wait, I know how I'm goin' to explain it to ya…"

Mundy got off the sofa and took Lucien's hand in his. 

"Put on yer coat and follow me."

They both took a minute to get dressed. Lucien put on his mask and gloves too. The Australian wore his thick winter jacket as well as the pair of gloves that his lover had offered him.

"Is my hair sticking out again?" Lucien asked as he faced his lover like a mirror.

"Nah, it's fine."

"Bien."

[Good.]

They both exited Lucien's suite. 

"Mon amour?"

Mundy froze. It was the first time that his lover called him that way outside of the safe and intimate walls of his suite. 

"Y-yeah?"

"Pray lock the door."

"Oh…"

Mundy blushed as he searched his pocket to find the key again. With shaking, awkward fingers he tried to align the key and the lock but he was too nervous. Lucien softly took Mundy's hand in his gloved one and guided him to make him relax. The Australian turned hot to his ears and let the Frenchman help him. And that's when Mundy's eyes went to the Frenchman's wrist and he noticed: Lucien's gloves were exactly the same as his own ones, except for the silver embroidered letter. For the Frenchman, it was a capital 'L'. 

"Thanks…"

"De rien."

[You're welcome.]

Mundy put the key back in his pocket and pondered for a second. Earlier that day, when they had met Scout in the corridor, Lucien had kept Mundy's hand in his. And now he called him "mon amour" without even looking if there were people around. Strange. 

"Non, not strange."

Mundy blinked as Lucien's voice broke his train of thought. 

"This is just how I feel for you."

The Australian smiled. He took Lucien's hand in his and they took the few steps of the stairs up. They crossed the corridor and arrived in the living-room. Neither of them paid too much attention to their colleagues there and they exited the base. 

"Bloody hell…"

Demoman, who was sipping his scrumpy enthusiastically could not hold back his surprise when he saw the couple walk past him hand in hand. He lowered his bottle and opened his eye wide.

"Yeah, they get along quite well eh?" Scout added.

"Oh so it's not me scrupeh then?"

"Haha, nah, they're just good friends."

"Aye, fair enough." Said Demoman, gulping down more of the strong liquid, reassured.

_ \-- Outside the base -- _

"So, where are you taking me, Headshot man?"

The sun was starting to set and everything around them was covered with a thick layer of white again. The Australian led the way to his van. He unlocked the back door and jumped in. He then turned and offered his hand for the Frenchman. Lucien grabbed it and got pulled in. 

Mundy switched the lights on and removed his jacket.

"So, Headshot Man, why did you bring me here?" The Frenchman asked as he got rid of his coat. 

"Up ya go, luv'!"

"Up?"

"Yeah!"

"Up where?"

"Up  _ there!" _ Said the Australian while pointing at his bed. 

"What?! Do you expect me to sleep in the van alone?!"

"Nah…!"

"Ah…"

"I'll go there with ya!"

"Mundy, mon amour, say that I  _ 'get up there',  _ as you say…"

"Yeah?"

"Then, and I don't mean to offend you but how are you going to fit with me?"

"Are ya sayin' I'm fat?!"

"Oh, yes, that is exactly what I'm saying." Lucien said, smirking in the end.

"Oi!"

"Dare tell me that I'm heavier than you."

The Australian raised his voice.

"Yeah, nah, it's true you have to be lighter than me, but that's 'cause you're smaller!"

Lucien raised his index finger and pointed it right at Mundy's chin.

"Are you saying I am  _ too small?" _

"Well, I don't know, you just called me fat roight there!"

" _ Imbécile!" _

_ "Wanker!" _

Silence fell and they stared in each other's eyes. They read the love that they once only dreamt of seeing in the gaze of the object of their desires.

" _ Je t'aime." _

[I love you.]

"I love ya."

They fell in each other's arms and shared a long and dear embrace.

"Now, climb up."

"D'accord."

[Alright.]

Lucien removed his shoes and climbed up the small ladder. He laid in bed and his lover soon joined him. 

"Now look up there."

The Frenchman raised his eyes and looked through the ceiling window.

"Oh, you can see the night sky."

Mundy laid an arm under Lucien's head and the latter now used that arm as a pillow. 

"That's what I'd see every night, before falling asleep."

"It's beautiful."

"D'you really think so?"

"Oui."

Mundy smiled and silence fell as both mercenaries were stargazing.

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Can I tell you somethin'?"

"But of course."

"That day when I took Pearl back to you… By the way, I can never pronounce it roight!"

"What?"

" _ Payrle?" _

"You're not far. But you need to make the  _ 'ay' _ sound shorter.  _ Perle." _

"Is there another word that has that sound?"

"Oui, plenty, for example 'je t'aime'."

Mundy smiled and tried answering in French directly. 

_ "Je t'aime aussi." _

_ [I love you too.] _

Lucien smiled too. 

"Is that the correct pronunciation now?"

"Non, but I like your accent, it's charming."

"Thanks."

"But pray continue your story."

"Ah, yeah, roight. That night I brought…  _ yer cat _ back and I saw you dance from your window, d'you remember that day?"

"Oui."

"I came back here and I laid in bed. I remember I looked up but couldn't see the stars."

"Oh, was it such a cloudy night?"

"Nah, I could only see you dancing in an endlessly sparkling background. It's-it was as if your dancing got physically printed on my eyes and wherever I looked I would see the things that are in front of me _, and_ _you dancing_ on top of it all…"

"Oh… I didn't know I made such a strong impression on you. But, speaking of that night, do you remember when you came back a couple days later and you told me that you indeed watched me dancing?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there was something you said that is still to this day stuck in my memory."

"What was it?"

"It's when you said that, well indeed I was maskless but I was dancing with my back to the windows, correct?"

"Hm-mh."

"And then you said that when I spun and faced the window, you turned your back and looked away."

"Yeah, I remember. I turned so fast I didn't see your face. I-I felt hot and I felt like a… like a…"

"You can say whatever you think of, mon amour. I will not think any less of you."

"Well… I felt like I was doing somethin' wrong and I got caught red-handed, y'know… I blushed and my ears were hot and-and I gasped! And I stopped breathin'!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"And that, mon amour, is one of the things that tickled my curiosity about you."

"Oh?"

"Oui, I started to think that there might be more than a pile of filthy jars in that head of yours."

Lucien stroked Mundy's cheek with his index finger.

"Well, thanks I guess…"

"Don't take it badly, I meant it as a joke."

"Oh, now Mister Spy has a sense of humour eh? But when it comes to being  _ gently put on the snow _ , Mister Spy can't take any jokes, can he?"

Mundy was teasing his lover which nicely surprised Lucien. He loved their banter too much to not talk back.

"Are you joking?! You tackled me into the snow! You didn't  _ put me gently _ on it!"

"Bah, yer just no fun, Baguette Knife."

"Me?! No fun?! I literally went on _ wild adventures  _ with you, Bushman!"

"Ye what?!"

"Well, I taught you French and the fine art of wine tasting!"

"And how the hell is that a wild adventure?"

"Well, you are the wildest and most adventurous student I've ever had."

"Oh…"

"Also I did go Christmas shopping with you in a supermarket…"

Lucien grimaced. 

"Oh, Mister Spy has higher standards than that?"

The Frenchman raised his head and the Aussie looked down at him.

"You should know, you're my lover."

Lucien winked and Mundy blushed.

“But, Bushman, I still don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why did you bring me here? It is freezing!”

Mundy put the blanket over his lover and hugged him tighter.

"Better?"

"A bit, oui."

"Good…"

Mundy curled his hand and let it stroke his lover's mask. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I brought you here to look at the stars."

Lucien looked up at his lover and saw the reflection of the night sky in his eyes. He snuggled closer to the Australian and asked:

"Why?"

Mundy sighed and smiled, his eyes still looking through the window at the vast universe.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and as always, let me know what you think in the comments! :D

Mega thanks to the people on discord and thanks to Crows for his editing :) 

Stay tuned for 37!

  
  



	37. Chapter 37

"I brought ya here to look at the stars."

Mundy said, his eyes jumping from one star to the other in the night sky.

"Why?"

"Because this is how you should look at yer life. Some people look at the sky and see some big black space and some random white stars. But nah… tss… That's  _ the sky _ , bloody hell! This isn't something that big and far away, it's close to us, it's what keeps us safe from outer space! It's exactly like this blanket, it wraps us safe! Some people look at the sky and are scared but the sky is a good thing, a very good thing. And the stars…?"

Lucien stared at Mundy. The Australian didn't know it but he was speaking  _ with passion _ and above all,  _ without any shame. _ He had not stuttered so far and Lucien knew he would not until the end of his speech. The Frenchman's eyes were riveted on his lover, drinking the words that came out of his mouth as well as taking in his charms in the shy light the moon was shedding through the ceiling window.

"...the stars, they're beautiful. They're very distant suns that you can only see when the one big sun that we have in this solar system is facing the other side of the planet. It's like they're too shy to show themselves when the Sun is shining."

"I guess you feel like them, non?"

Mundy lowered his head to ask his lover.

"What d'you mean?"

"They're too shy when they're in the presence of the Sun, oui. But if you understand it this way, you omit a major piece of information about them."

"What?"

"As you did say, the stars are suns  _ themselves. _ "

Lucien's finger was tracing shapes, circles and loops on his lover's cheek, playing with the thick and short hairs of his sideburns.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything! You're exactly like those stars. You're shy and you don't show much of yourself, especially because you think of yourself as a  _ common man _ , someone without much to share or nothing special to share. But you forget that you are a man too, like those that you look at with stars and hearts in your eyes. You are not less than them. Non, absolutely not. You're a man with his story, his passions, his adventures in life. You, mon amour, you are  _ my  _ star."

Mundy blushed intensely and because the words did not come, he just put his lips on his lover's forehead and left a long, loving kiss. It meant all the appreciation he had for his lover, minus the words.

"Thanks, really." 

"You are welcome. It is necessary to remind yourself of such a basic statement from time to time, mon amour. You are a wonderful man, even if others can't see it, _I_ _can."_

Lucien left a quick peck on his lover's cheek who turned his head to ask for more. The Frenchman gladly obliged. 

"Tell me…"

"Hm?"

"Have you always lived in this van of yours?"

"Nah of course not! I wasn't born in it you know!"

"Oh did you not?"

Lucien played the sarcasm again and smirked.

"Oi, I'm not assuming you were born in a bakery in Paris so…!"

"And you are very correct for two reasons, but don't let me interrupt you, you were about to answer my question, hm?"

"Y-yeah, well, I've always lived with… Well, with my parents… I-I know it sounds pathetic maybe b-but I've always liked the life I've led with them. They have a farm, I used to help after school and until I dropped out of it. It's when I started bein' a proper hunter that dad gave me this old van… You should have seen it when I first got it, the thing was so old…! We worked hard to get it back in action. It took us a few months, but I'm quite happy with the result. It's not fancy or modern, but it feels like home, y'know."

"Non."

"What?"

"That's wrong."

"Oi, look luv', I know you prefer comfy, modern stuff but _ this _ is what I like!"

"I'm not contradicting that!"

"Wh-what?!"

"All I'm saying is it doesn't sound pathetic  _ at all. _ I find it lovely. I wish I had the chance to live such a peaceful life with a loving family. But I barely have any, and now it's too late to start one…"

Lucien swiftly removed his mask and his hair flowed on his face. Mundy pushed the white locks aside and cupped his lover's face.

"Well, y-you've got me now, roight?"

"Oui, and I am very lucky to."

Lucien rested against his lover's chest again while the Australian was playing with the Frenchman's hair. Silence fell in the van, only interrupted by the occasional gust of wind.

"Mon amour?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Is the BLU Spy still bothering you?"

"Ah, well, he does sometimes… He can be such a pain… I don't mind the backstabbin', it's more the bullying with his Sniper that gets on my nerves."

"I might have an idea for them to give you a good break."

"Oh?"

"But you'll have to trust me."

"Am I not already?"

"Good answer!"

Lucien kissed his lover on the cheek. 

"But let's get some sleep, I'll tell you tomorrow morning what we have to do."

"We?"

"Oui,  _ we. _ We both have a part to play and yours will show if you know me well."

"Oh, okay…"

Silence fell again and Mundy's eyelids started to feel heavy, when suddenly, Lucien's voice broke his falling asleep. 

"Mon amour?"

"Hm?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah."

"Merci."

"Love ya."

_ "Je t'aime aussi." _

[I love you too.]

And they both fell asleep in each other's arms, Lucien still in his shirt and nice trousers, Mundy with his lover tightly hugged against his chest.

_ \-- Next day, on the battlefield -- _

Sniper settled in his nest, as usual. He put his rifle against the window and took a sip of his hot coffee, before putting the mug on a nearby crate. 

_ "MISSION BEGINS IN 30 SECONDS!" _

"Are you ready, Spy?"

"Oui, Sniper."

"Really? There will be no looking back after we start."

"We discussed this. I know the risks and I'll take them."

The Australian looked around him and stretched his back and his legs. He pushed the crate nearer the window and sat on it. Sniper then took his rifle in his hands and aimed at the BLU gate.

_ "5...4...3...2...1… BEGIN!" _

He took a few shots but definitely missed more of them than usual. Spy, who was cloaked in a corner of the room noticed it but did not intervene. What could he do anyway, give advice on how to aim? Maybe his lover just needed a bit of warm up. The Frenchman leant against the wall and waited. And he did not have to wait for long. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur."

Sniper sighed and unscoped. The BLU Frenchman walked in direction of the crate and stood next to it.

"How are we today?"

Sniper scoped back and didn't answer.

"I see… And how is  _ your man, hm?" _

The RED marksman opened wide eyes, blushed and gulped loud enough that the BLU snake heard it. 

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?"

Sniper unscoped and put the rifle aside. 

"Uh… Well, yeah…"

"What's wrong? Has he already gone with someone else and you were foolish enough to believe your story with him would last?"

"N-no, no that's not the problem…"

"What is it then?"

The BLU Spy took a cigarette ans lit it.

"I-it's you."

The Spy put a hand on his chest while the RED one, still cloaked, raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Me?"

"Y-yeah."

Sniper stood up and removed his hat, lowering his head. The BLU Frenchman let the silence weigh in the room, waiting for an explanation from his enemy. The latter was fiddling with his hat in his hands. 

"I-I realised that I… I mean you… I…"

"What is it?"

Sniper removed his earpiece, dropped it to the ground and crushed it under his sole.

"I can't get you out of my head."

The RED Spy was cloaked and watched the whole scene unravel like a nightmare before his eyes. He frowned and left the room silently, enraged. His BLU counterpart on the other hand was gobsmacked. Never had he imagined that the RED Australian could like him.

"You what?" Asked the BLU Spy slowly. 

"I… I realised it's not him I want, it-it's you."

The masked enemy raised the palm of his hand to the window and the blue laser dot that had been sitting between the Australian's eyes disappeared.

"You what?" He asked again, agape and his eyes opened wide. 

"Y-yeah I-I can't really hide the fact that, well, I quite enjoy when you come around… and-and… uh, y-yeah, even when I'm with  _ my _ Spy and we're… uh… y'know… well, I can't stop thinkin' about you, wishing it was you…"

The RED Frenchman had managed to backstab someone on his way to tear the BLU Sniper apart and shred him like paper. He had stolen the earpiece from the corpse and was listening in. And thoughts started racing in his head.

"Well now, how the tables have turned…!"

The BLU Spy took the step that separated him from the RED Sniper and he felt the Australian's heart beat so hard it would no doubt burst out of his chest.

"So you prefer me, hm?"

Mundy lowered his head and nodded slowly. His enemy put a finger down his chin and raised it up, just enough that their eyes met. He was smirking devilishly.

"I am flattered."

Mundy was as red as a brick and he was shaking everywhere.

"And let me tell you, you have your charms. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't sensitive to them."

The RED Spy arrived where the BLU Sniper was. The marksman heard him and turned his head. He was welcomed with a slash of the Frenchman's butterfly knife to the cheek. 

"Y-what?!"

The Frenchman then wrapped an arm around the BLU Sniper and made him spin. Lucien was now strangling his opponent from behind. 

"Listen to me carefully, you bloody imbecile…"

"Gnnh…!"

The BLU Sniper tried freeing himself from the Frenchman, but to no avail. Spy added the blade on his enemy's throat. 

"Move only slightly and I open you up like a dingo…"

The BLU marksman raised a curious eyebrow. Was the Frenchman mocking his country of origin now?! The next thing the BLU marskman knew, Lucien had removed both their earpieces and crushed them under his sole.

"Listen up! It's only you and me now. No one can neither hear, nor see what I will do to you. Your friend of a lyin' backstabbin' snake is busy  _ receiving my Sniper's graces _ , if you know what I mean. So now you will listen and do exactly as I say or I swear no respawn will fix what I will do to you."

"Y-y…"

Spy slightly released the strain on his hostage's neck, just enough for him to speak. 

"Yer boyfriend is givin' my Spy a bl-!?"

He tightened his grip again quickly.

"SHUT UP! OR I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!"

The BLU marksman could not help but smile. He was being strangled and threatened, yes, but he still could hurt his foe.

"You and your BLU colleague will stop harassing my Sniper, do you hear me?!"

The BLU Marksman released his hand from the Frenchman's sleeves and Lucien looked up as his hostage lifted his right index finger up. 

"What?!"

Sniper raised his left hand and opened it. He then connected the tip of his index and his thumb, forming a circle. Spy still wasn't understanding until the marksman moved his index in and out of the circle. Lucien's eyes snapped wide open and he couldn't take it anymore.

_ \-- Later that day --  _

There was a knock on Lucien's door. 

"Come in."

The door opened. 

"Why did you knock, you have a-oh, good evening, Engineer. Sorry, I assumed it would be Sniper."

"Hey there, pardner, sorry to bother ya. I received a letter from the Admin for ya."

The Texan handed the envelope to his colleague. 

"Merci."

[Thanks.]

"You're welcome, I've got one for Sniper too. Actually, everyone got a letter."

"He might be either in his room or in his van I'm afraid."

"Oh, I thought he'd be with ya."

"So did I, he's taking his time today."

"Bah, no problem, I'll go and find him."

"If you do, please tell him I'm waiting for him."

"Will do!"

"Merci."

[Thanks.]

"You're welcome, see ya!"

Engineer left and closed the door. The Frenchman took a seat on his sofa and with a neat cut of his knife, he opened the envelope. He took the letter out and his eyes scanned it.

"Mon Dieu… Mais qu'est-ce que…?"

[My God… But what the hell is…?"

His eyes widened more and more and the Admin's words flowed in his mind. He put a hand on his mouth in surprise and horror.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thank you for reading! :D

Please let me know what you think of this chapter :) ! 

Thanks to all the people on discord :)! 

Stay tuned for 38!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	38. Chapter 38

There was a knock on the van's door. Mundy did not answer it. He was in his bed, still in his working clothes and wrapped in his blanket. Engineer waited for a couple seconds and heard the Australian move in the van. 

_ Ah, he's here but he didn't hear me, or he's busy… Bah, I'll slip the letter under the door and he'll find it later. _

And so he did and went back to the base, not knowing in what state of utter panic his Australian colleague was. Mundy's eyes were wide open and even if all the lights were off, he could see as clearly as if it were broad daylight. He had heard something being pushed under his door. He raised himself up to sit and looked. 

_ An envelope… _

He got out of the bed, his blanket still on his shoulders, sat on the floor and tore it open with shaking fingers.

_ "Dear RED Sniper, _

_ This communication has been made to the whole team. Your colleague the RED Spy is fired and will be replaced in a few days. There is a strict cease fire meanwhile. You are expected to not interfere while Miss Pauling shows the newcomer around the base.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ The Administrator." _

The Australian smacked a hand in front of his mouth and cried profusely. 

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, Fuuuuuuuuck…! And it's all my fault…!" 

He crumpled the letter in his hand, threw his glasses away and cried, again and again, the blanket around his shoulders slowly sinking down like his heart in his chest.

"Why did I do that…? I shouldn't have! Now he's gonna go and it's all cause of me and-"

A knock cut his sentence short and sharp. 

"Mundy,  _ ouvre, c'est moi!" _

[Mundy, open up, it's me!]

"No!"

Lucien frowned, surprised. 

"Please! We need to talk!"

"No! I did enough harm as it is! Go away!"

Lucien opened wide eyes. He came closer to the door and shouted. 

"Is that really what you want?! Don't you want to have a chat?!"

"No!"

"WHY?!"

Mundy crawled on all four to the other side of the door and shouted back.

"BECAUSE I FUCKED UP EVERYTHIN' AND IT WOULD ONLY MAKE IT HURT HARDER!"

The Australian burst into tears again and Lucien heard it. He knew his lover was a mere centimetre away from him, on the other side of that metallic door. 

"Mundy, I made a promise to you!"

"Yeah you did but because of me you can't hold it anymore! It's all MY FAULT!"

Mundy slammed his fist on the door and from the other side, Lucien felt the vibrations. He waited a moment for his lover's tears to stop streaming. 

"Mundy?"

No answer. 

"Mon amour?"

Mundy waited a bit but he couldn't help answering.

"Y-yeah?"

"Je t'aime."

Lucien kissed the tip of his fingers and put his hand flat on the van door. He lowered his head and shifted his weight as he turned to walk back to the base. He lit a cigarette as he entered and looked at the living-room. All his colleagues looked up at him and he read sadness in their eyes. Sadness and surprise. 

"Uhm… We're sorry, pal." Said Scout. 

Lucien looked at him intensely and something in the young man's big blue eyes slapped him across the face. He opened wide eyes, his jaw dropped along with his cigarette. The Bostonian came and wrapped his arms around the Frenchman. 

"Huh?"

It snapped. Not only had Spy found a lover here, but he also had found good friends. He looked up and saw Demo and Solly raising off the couch. From behind him, he heard Pyro's squeaking boots along with Engie. On his right, the door opened and Heavy and Medic appeared. All had their eyes turned towards their now  _ ex- _ colleague. 

The Frenchman was speechless. Demoman took a few steps and handed him a bottle of his whiskey, still uncorked. Heavy put a hand on his shoulder. Soldier was saluting him, standing at attention. 

"Tonight we should all have dinner together, fellas."

"Yeah!"

"Affirmative!"

"M-merci, gentlemen but…"

"No but." Heavy cut him short. "Tonight we have dinner with you and Sniper, before you go."

Spy lowered his head and closed his eyes. He felt Scout's hug tighten. 

"Oh my God! Y-your heart! You have a heart and I can hear it beatin'! Oh man!"

The Frenchman smiled sadly.

"Herr Spy, might we have a word, please?" 

Lucien looked at Medic. 

"But of course."

"I'll get busy with Py' makin' dinner."

"We'll help you, lad." 

"That will give you some time to chat with Medic and Heavy."

"Merci, Engineer."

"Don't mention it."

_ \-- Moments later, in the Medibay -- _

"Look Spy, I know this is none of our business but as the Medic of the team, I am bound to report on anything that might affect the team, you understand?"

"Oui."

"Gut. Well, then I must ask you a question that might be uncomfortable for you to answer. But before I do so, let me assure you that nothing you will say will exit the doors of this office."

Heavy entered the office with a tray. On it were three porcelain cups and a fuming, matching teapot. He sat down and served tea to his colleagues and himself. 

"As for Heavy, I can assure you that he will keep his lips sealed."

"Da. Can I say something before you, Doctor?"

"Of course."

The three men were sitting in Medic's office but not at his desk. They had arranged their chairs in a triangle under the main lamp. Heavy bent over and put a hand on Spy's shoulder again. 

"Whatever you did, you did because of greater reasons than this war we are fighting. I will not judge you. Had the same happened to Medic, I would have no doubt done worse."

Spy raised an eyebrow and his eyes went to Medic and Heavy again. Both the German and the Russian looked at each other and Lucien saw  _ it. _ The same flame in their eyes than the flames he used to share with Mundy.  _ Ha, used to... _

"Oh…"

Medic smiled. 

"Now I need to ask you. How is Sniper?"

Spy took a sip of the tea and took a deep breath. 

"To be honest, I thought you were going to ask me what I did to end up fired, Medic."

"And to be honest, I would like to know. But that is none of my business so I understand if you don't want to tell us."

"I will tell you. I have nothing to hide and no reason to do it anymore."

The Frenchman took a sip of the tea again. 

"That's an excellent blend of teas, Heavy, thank you very much."

"You're welcome. My mother sent it to me. It's my favourite."

They exchanged a friendly smile and Spy resumed his speech. 

"It all started when the BLU Spy and Sniper learnt about…  _ us _ , Sniper and I."

Medic nodded. 

"They started bullying Sniper for it. You might remember that match where Sniper actually complained about being unable to work?"

"Da."

"So we decided to take action. I disguised as  _ our Sniper _ and Sniper, as me. I went to Sniper's nest and waited for the BLU Spy to come and bully me, which he did. I then made him believe that I was in love with him."

"W-what, I am confused, Spy, please repeat that."

"Of course. In the eyes of the enemy Spy, the RED Sniper was declaring his love to him. Meanwhile, the RED Sniper, disguised as  _ me _ , went to the BLU Sniper's nest and confronted him. He was meant to only beat him in a close combat fight."

"But?"

"But the BLU Sniper, whatever he did, provoked him a bit too well, or a bit too much, depending on how you see it and there is footage of me killing the poor man brutally."

Medic's jaw dropped. 

"Wait… But it wasn't you! It was Herr Sniper!"

"Exactly. But no one knows that. Well, now you do. But in the eyes of the Administrator, I was the one who used a Mann Co. weapon not in a way that it was designed."

"Wait, doesn't she know that it was Sniper who was wielding the knife?"

"Oh yes she does, but  _ I  _ was the one who gave Sniper a mask from my disguise kit. And it wasn't the first time I  _ misused  _ my time on the battlefield. She must be tired of me having my own ways."

"Oh, I see."

"Did the BLU Sniper respawn?"

"Oui, he did. I did see him later in that match."

"Heavy, you asked a very good question but to me it seems as though something doesn't fit…"

"What is it, Medic?"

"You just said that Sniper,  _ our _ Sniper, that man who can stay sat and mute for days without flinching, armed with one of  _ your _ knives, disguised as  _ you _ shredded the other Sniper to pieces?!"

Spy nodded.

"Oui."

"Mein Gott…"

Medic slapped his hand on his cheek. 

"If I didn't know that you… well…  _ got along so well _ , I would never believe it."

Spy smiled. 

"I see you understand. Also, Heavy, I have the feeling that you guessed something uhm…  _ fishy _ , had happened."

The big Russian man finished sipping his tea and nodded.

"Da. I couldn't believe you could lose you calm.  _ Unless _ , it was for Sniper. But I was wrong. It was other way around. Sniper lost his calm,  _ for you. _ "

"Oui…"

"So I come back to my original question. How is he?"

"Locked up in his van, in a very poor state I'm afraid. Even the lights are off. He's no doubt drowning in his tears as we speak."

The clinging sound of Spy's cup hitting the tray again broke the thick atmosphere. 

"D-do you think he will be able to continue fighting?"

"No doubt. He is a professional, I have faith in him."

Medic stared at Spy's eyes. 

"Spy…?"

"Fine, I don't know... I hope he will. I don't want him to fall too low because of my ridiculous idea."

"Spy?" Heavy asked. 

"Oui?"

"Why did you do it? You must have known what risks you were taking."

"Oui, I knew. And I had talked to M-..."

Spy frowned. 

"Take your time."

"We had discussed it before but in a feat of madness, we thought we could make it."

"And you nearly did."

"Oui, I guess we nearly did…" The Frenchman lit a cigarette. 

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in!"

"Oh hey guys, sorry to come in like that, Engineer sent to tell you dinner is ready."

"Ah, danke. We were done, let's go."

_ \-- Dining room -- _

The atmosphere was heavy. No one was saying anything and even the young boy Scout was silent. Only the forks were squealing on the plates, like sad rakes in autumn collecting dead leaves. 

Eyes met awkwardly and evaded each other. No one could say anything but that silence in itself made it clear. All the mercenaries would miss their colleague. 

Spy was tracing circles with his fork, resting his head on his clenched fist. He hadn't touched the content of his plate. His head was low and his eyes, riveted on the empty chair in front of him. 

"Spy, you're not hungry?"

He slowly raised his eyes and all could see the deep heartache gnawing on his soul.

"Non… I'm sorry, Engineer. I wish I could honour your meal better. I-I can't."

"I can understand."

"And I can't!" The Frenchman threw his fork in his plate and leant back, crossing his arms.

"I can't understand. I don't know what I'm going to do…"

"Are ye not goin' back tae France?"

"Oui, I guess I will, but I-I don't know what I'll do there…"

"Ain't you a Spy?"

"Non."

Silence fell. 

"Wait, aren't you a proper French Spy?!"

"I used to be one, oui. I quit my position a bit before joining Mann Co. Now, I'm nothing, just nothing."

The mercenaries looked at their friend, their jaws dropping. 

"I am retired and too old to go around continuing to work. I shall rent a small flat and wait there."

"What are you gonna wait for?"

The Frenchman raised his head, looked Scout dead in the eye and lowered it again. 

"Oh fuck…"

"Ah, also…"

Lucien put a hand on his mask and removed it swiftly, throwing it on the table, in front of him. He shook his head to adjust his hair out of his face.

"Wow, wow, wow!"

The mercenaries were all agape. Engineer looked at Scout. 

"Holy…"

He looked at Spy again and put a hand on his mouth. The Frenchman resumed his speech.

"My name is Lucien and it's been a pleasure working with you all. Oui, even you Scout. I think I have found in you what I never thought I could… colleagues first, but also friends. Oui, friends and…"

He turned his head again and looked at the empty chair in front of him. Scout finished his sentence for him. 

"And your best friend."

The Frenchman looked at the young boy, his eyes glistening. 

"Oui, the best friend I've ever had I think."

"You'll find new friends in France, even a lady or two, c'mon you know you're  _ that good  _ with women right?"

"Oui, but I don't want it anyone. No lady or no man is what I want and have already found."

"Man, some of us dream of bein' as good as you are with ladies and you're just sayin' you'd turn all of them down?!"

"Oui. It's not them that I need."

Spy heard his own voice crack and felt ashamed. He stood up and cleared his throat. 

"If you'll excuse me, I need to pack."

The Frenchman bowed and went to his suite. No one had the strength in their heart to try and make him stay at the table. They knew that the only one who could do that was not there, so they couldn't. 

_ \-- Sniper's van -- _

"Snipes! Hey!"

The Australian hugged his pillow tighter under his blanket. 

Scout banged the door again. 

"Snipes! I know you're there, open up!"

Mundy screwed his eyes shut. 

"Snipes!"

"Bugger off."

"No! I won't go!"

"For fuck's sake yo-"

"No! Shut up and listen!"

Mundy opened his eyes and frowned. 

"We're all sat there, tryin' to have dinner,  _ our last dinner  _ with Spy and you ain't there! You're supposed to be his best friend and you're not there for him where he needs it most! He's sittin' there, he hasn't eaten anything and-and… SCREW YOU! You have no idea how fucking broken he is! We've never seen him like that!"

Scout paused to catch his breath.

"And you don't say anything, really?!"

"Go. Away."

"Snipes, he even hugged me and he removed his mask in front of everyone! He left the table with tears in his eyes, Snipes, SPY WAS CRYING IN FRONT OF US, YOU DUMBASS!"

Mundy's tears continued to flow silently. Scout put a menacing index finger on the door and tapped repeatedly as he said angrily.

"Look, if you don't open that door, I'm getting Demo to blow it up!"

"What?!"

"Yeah you heard me alright! We're gonna blow your fucking door open and if we blow up your brains with it, it'd be a fucking miracle cause right now, you act as if you don't have any!"

Scout waited for a second as he heard noises coming from inside the van. Mundy opened the door and Scout gasped. The Australian wasn't wearing his glasses, and he was still wearing his very bloodied work clothes. His hair was ruffled and the tears on his face hadn't all dried yet. Scout could clearly see his colleague had big, red, swollen eyes.

"What do you want?" Sniper asked simply. 

"You need to go and see him."

"It wouldn't change anything."

"Oh yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that eh! Of course it wouldn't change anything for us, but for you two…! You  _ need  _ it, both of you!"

"Bah, he doesn't need anything. He's about twice yer age, Scout, and he's gone through much worse. Leave him and leave  _ me  _ alone and it'll be fine."

Sniper started closing the door but Scout quickly put his foot down to block it.

"Maybe, but I've never seen Spy accepting a hug from anyone and today he did. I've never heard his heartbeat, but today I did. I've never seen Spy without this fuckin' thing-"

Scout handed Spy's mask to Sniper.

"-and today he removed it in front of all of us. I've never seen the man show any feelings, and today he did, even in front of me. I've never heard him say that he'd go back to France and lock himself up waiting for the end to come, and today I did."

"What are you bloody talkin' about?! He'll find someone else, that bloke has anyone at his feet with as much as a snap of his fingers!"

"No,  _ you _ don't understand, he said he'd refuse to see anyone else with him BUT YOU!"

Sniper opened wide eyes. 

_ Bugger _ . 

He remembered how indeed Spy had told him that he would certainly be his last companion in life. The Australian put his hand on his face and let it sink down. 

"Come in."

Scout obeyed and Sniper shut the door after him. 

"What am I s'pposed to do, hm? Go and see him, you say. And then what? Fall at his knees? Cry my eyeballs out?"

"I-I don't know but please go and see him. Imagine if the roles were reversed. Imagine if  _ you _ were the one who's fired, hm? Would you not wanna see him before you leave?"

Sniper sighed. 

"Of course I would! But…"

"But what?"

"But it hurts, Scout. It bloody  _ hurts.  _ It feels like… Like I'm just two legs and two arms, like a… an empty shell… Like the shell of a snail but without the snail…"

Sniper lowered his head. Scout put a hand on his shoulder.

"And we both know a snail that would die to see ya, pal. Go and see him. I don't know if there's any solution to your problem but ya need to talk through it. D-don't do it like my parents."

Sniper raised his head. 

"Your parents?"

"Y-yeah. When my dad learnt that mom was pregnant, he fled. He fled and he didn't ask about me, he-he didn't care. Don't do that. Go and talk to him before he goes away cause if he's anything like my dad, chances are you won't see him ever again."

"Scout?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll go and talk to him."

The young man's face brightened. 

"But it might kill me, knowing that it's the last chat we'll have."

"Snipes, I-I… uh… I'll be there for ya."

The Australian put his hat on his head on put on his gloves. 

"Thanks, mate." 

The Bostonian went back to the base and Sniper followed him. One went to the living room while the other descended the few steps to the suite of his beloved. Each step he took was harder than the previous one, hurt more. But he had to and deep down he had been craving it. He couldn't let Lucien leave without saying goodbye.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

Please do let me know what you think of this one in the comments!

Mega thanks to everyone on the discord server, you guys are lovely :)

Stay tuned for 39!


	39. Chapter 39

"Meow?"

"Ah, bonsoir Perle."

[Ah, good evening, Perle.]

The Frenchman crushed his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and took another one. He lit it and threw the lighter on the bed. Lucien had started packing his things. He didn't have much that didn't belong to Mann Co. A suitcase was enough to make it all fit: his clothes and a couple short blades. He added his Christmas suit and the dartboard that Mundy had offered him. His mind rolled back to when they exchanged their gifts for Christmas, when he went shopping with Mundy, when Mundy caught up with him in the snow, shooting his rage away at the tin cans...

Lucien opened a cupboard and got Perle's travelling basket. 

"Meow?"

"Oui, on rentre en France."

[Yes, we go back to France.]

"Meow?"

"Pourquoi? Parce qu'où veux-tu que j'aille?"

[Why? Because where else do you want me to go?]

"Meow!"

He got busy cleaning it off the dust when someone held him from behind, wrapping their arms around his waist and resting their head on his shoulder. Lucien gasped. He lowered his head and looked at those hands that were circling him. They were wearing those black wool gloves, with a silver capital 'M' embroidered in. He put his hands on them and leant his head against Mundy's. The Frenchman closed his eyes to fully appreciate one of his last embraces with the man who not only changed his days, but changed him  _ himself. _

They both remained silent, the sound of their breaths softly counting the ticks and tocks that they had left.

"I… I want you to stay."

"Me too. I wish I could."

Mundy's hug tightened. 

"I'm sorry."

"Non, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have asked you to help me. I should have left the BLU Spy harass you one last time while  _ I _ take care of their Sniper."

"I'm sorry…"

Mundy buried his head in his lover's shoulder, from behind. 

"Don't apologise. We had discussed it. We both knew what we were doing and we agreed to do it of our own accord. No one forced us."

"I'm sorry…"

Lucien turned around and held his lover in his arms. He felt Mundy's fingers clench on his shirt, digging his nails as deeply as he could, on his back. He was trying his hardest to feel his lover,  _ all of him _ , and make him stay. He felt as if Lucien was made of the smoke of the cigarettes he was used to smoking and he was evaporating away, slipping through his fingers. The Frenchman had curled his arms around his lover's neck, clinging to him as he would to the branch of a tree that stuck out of a bottomless pit.

The Frenchman cupped his lover's face and looked him straight in the eye.

"I want you to know that I still love you, Mundy. And I will not forget you. Also rest assured that all that you said to me, will remain with me and me alone."

Mundy screwed his eyes shut.

"Stop it…"

"What you did to me is… unprecedented. Rarely have I shared with someone what I shared with you."

"Stop, please…"

"You made me sing again like I seldom did before. And those sweet moments we shared, those sweeter nights, your touch, your body…"

Lucien put his fingers on Mundy's lips.

"Your lips."

"Lu'... Please stop…"

"Rarely has anyone been able to do what you did to me. You… You changed me, for the better I believe. You made me kinder. I think you made me  _ human. _ "

Lucien felt Mundy's chest inflate and deflate in a long, sad sigh. 

"Mundy?"

"Hm?" He answered, while opening his eyes again slowly.

"Will you remember me?"

"How can you bloody ask? I-I'll remember everythin'! Everythin'! There's no way I can forget even one word of what you said to me or one moment we spent together. You… You gave me so much… You taught me French, wine tasting, you made me realise that even if I was bad at school, I _could actually learn_ _things._ I'm… I'm not stupid…"

_ Far from it,  _ Lucien thought.

"You showed me those things and many more like… You showed me that I could… uh… love someone or even  _ be loved! _ You showed me the true  _ you _ , the nice one… Not the cold-blooded snake that everybody knows, nah… You showed me the soft Lu', the romantic one, the one who sings with his heart and says  _ 'Je t'aime' _ from the bottom of his soul."

"Thank you, Mundy."

"Luv', I don't want you to go."

"And I don't want to leave you either."

Silence fell. 

"When are you leaving?"

"Any moment now. A taxi is due to come and take me to the nearest airport. I'll take the first flight back to France."

There was a knock at the door.

"Pardner?"

Mundy had left the door opened and Engie was peeking from it. 

"I think your car is here."

"Ah, bien, merci Engineer."

[Ah, good, thanks Engineer.]

The Texan nodded and left. Lucien motioned Perle to her basket and she entered. He closed the door to it. Mundy reluctantly took his suitcase and headed to the door. 

"Mundy?"

The Australian turned and face his lover who had worn his coat and gloves. 

"May I kiss you?"

Mundy opened wide eyes. The fact that Lucien, the irresistible Frenchman, felt that he had to  _ ask _ showed how distraught he was. 

The Australian dropped the suitcase and wrapped his hands around his lover. Lucien held Mundy's face in his hands, sliding his gloved fingers through his hair.

"Je t'aime, je t'aime tellement…"

[I love you, I love you so much…]

"So do I-"

Mundy dived in and kissed his lover, breathing loudly. He didn't want to let go of Lucien. They clung to each other for a few seconds, and it felt like each put his soul in the other's hand. They knew that after that, they would feel dead so instead of letting their souls go back to their respective solitude, why not give it to that one person who blew life and colours in it?

They left the suite, took the couple of steps up, and went through the corridor. Each step they took was heavier than the last and the shock of the heels on the ground made their heart sink a little lower.

They found their colleagues at the door.

"Good luck to you Herr Spy."

Medic extended his hand and Spy shook it. The rest of the mercenaries soon followed until Scout who took Spy's hand and pulled on it to hug the old man again. To his surprise, the Frenchman returned the hug and clung to him for a moment, and then parted. That's when Sniper noticed that Scout was in tears.

"Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure."

The Frenchman opened the door and left, followed by Sniper. The rest of their colleagues left the door opened and stayed at the doorstep. 

The taxi had opened the car boot and took the suitcase off Mundy's hand. The Frenchman entered the car and looked out. Mundy had big, glistening eyes. The Australian knocked at the window and Lucien rolled it down. 

"Here, take this, you almost forgot it."

Mundy handed his lover's mask back. 

"Non." 

The Frenchman raised the palm of his hand.

"Keep it as a souvenir."

"Then take those."

The Australian removed his glasses and handed them to his lover. 

"But they're your father's…?"

The word didn't come so he just nodded.

"And if I want to write or call you, how should I-?"

Lucien shook his head. 

"Non, please. I think it's better if we cut everything short.  _ Cela ne ferait qu'aggraver la douleur." _

[It would only make it hurt more.]

"B-but…?"

The taxi driver resumed his seat. 

"Where are we going Sir?"

"The airport, please."

"Alright."

Mundy's heart raced, he wished he could shout and make it all stop, beat the taxi driver to a pulp and the Admin too.

"Lu'?"

The Frenchman raised his head again. Tears were streaming down his lover's face.

"Goodbye, Mundy."

Lucien rolled the window up while the taxi driver started the engine of the car, a look of defeat on his face. Mundy knocked at the window again. Lucien turned his head and looked at him. The Australian couldn't speak so his lips formed the words without any sound coming out of them. 

_ I love you. _

Lucien smiled sadly and nodded and in a loud roar, the car started and got further and further away. Mundy fell to his knees. The Australian's eyes were riveted on the red back lights of the car. He didn't know it but Lucien was indeed looking back with tears in his eyes.

"Sniper, you'd better come inside, you'll freeze here."

Medic advised his colleague but the marksman didn't flinch. The German tapped his shoulder amicably and left him. The mercenaries came back in the base, leaving Mundy alone, his knees planted in the snow and this breath having stopped a long time ago. He felt something next to him, he turned his head. 

_ Scout? _

The young man crouched next to his colleague and sniffed, wiping the tears off his face with his bandaged hand.

"He-he said that… He said that if I'd been his son, he'd be proud of me… He said he was…  _ proud _ . He-he said  _ 'I'm proud of you, Jeremy, I've always been.'... _ "

Sniper wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"How does he know my name?" 

Mundy smiled. 

"How old are ya, Scout?"

"What? I'm twenty-seven, but I still don't know how he knows my name."

Sniper smiled sadly. 

"He also said something about you."

Scout said and Mundy turned his head, curious. 

"He said I should keep an eye on ya. He said you don't talk much, but you're a great friend."

Sniper stood up and walked back to the base. 

"Oh, hey! Wait!"

Scout followed him and they both got in.

"Please Scout, just-just give me a moment."

The young man nodded and went to his room. Mundy went to the kitchen. Luckily enough, it was empty. He didn't want to return to the solitude of his van. He looked through the window and put his hands in his pockets.

"Oh…?"

He got that key out. 

"Bugger…"

He bit his lip. 

_ Should I go? Should I not? Why would I go? It would be empty. Bah, useless.  _

Mundy had been thinking but his legs had decided for him. There he stood, in front of the door with the knife symbol.

_ Ah, and screw it. _

He put the key in the lock and turned. Sniper pushed the door and entered, closing it behind him. He looked around. The suite looked dead, the flames in the fireplace were gone, the kitchen was clean, the bottles of wine had disappeared. He walked around as if Lucien would emerge from behind a door or a cupboard. 

"Oh…"

Mundy then saw the record player. He walked towards it. A note was stuck on it, it read:

" _ Mon amour, _

_ Je savais que tu reviendrais ici avant que mon remplaçant ne vienne. Voilà mon dernier cadeau pour toi, prends-le et prends les quelques disques qui traînent dans le tiroir.  _

_ Je t'aime plus que tout, _

_ Ton Lucien." _

The Australian put the paper against his chest for a moment. He looked at it again and read it again:

"My love,

I knew you would come back before the new Spy comes. Here is my last gift for you, take it and take the few discs in the drawer with it.

I love you more than anything else,

Your Lucien."

Mundy put the paper against his nose and took a deep breath. Tears came to his eyes.

_ Mmmh… _

The smell of the perfume, the vanilla hand cream and the expensive menthol cigarettes.  _ That _ had remained. 

_ \-- Sniper's van -- _

"Hoo?"

"Yeah, no dinner for me tonight, mate."

"Hoo."

"I know. But I'm not hungry."

The marksman was sitting down and cleaning his rifle. He had put Lucien record player on the counter next to his sink and the music was playing. Mundy was not listening to the music in itself. He knew those songs, he had listened to them countless times with Lucien. Nah, he was just… Those songs helped nurturing the illusion that Lucien was still there, with him.

"I don't know why she didn't fire me too. She could've… I mean, she knows I was the one who killed the other Sniper… Bah, but I guess it's because Spy had gone on a small strike of his own before so it wasn't the first time he was getting on her nerves…"

He smiled without realising it. 

"Pfff… A strike for what? For…"

His smile vanished instantly. 

"For us."

He gulped the knot in his throat down. 

"She's never gonna find someone as good as him. She's gonna regret him as much as I do. The wh-"

There was a knock at the door. 

"What?"

"It's me, Snipes!"

"Come in."

The young man pushed the door and entered. 

"Hoo!"

"Hootsy, calm down. He's okay."

The owl went on his master's shoulder. The young man put his backpack down and looked around while Mundy fed a treat to Hootsy. 

"Is that French music?"

Mundy's silence was an answer in itself. Scout looked at the kukris hanging on the wall.

"Oh, wow, I didn't know you collected knives. My mom always said it's a twisted hobby, for morons…"

Sniper remained silent and continued with his rifle. 

"Oh… This one looks amazing…  _ Lu… Lux Lun… Lunae… Lux Lunae.  _ What does it mean?"

Mundy raised his head.

" _ The Light of Monday." _

"Weird."

Mundy smiled. 

"Spy engraved it for me."

"He what?!"

"Yeah, he was really good with engraving."

"I-I know. When I went back to my room, I found he left me this."

Sniper raised his head and watched. His colleague crouched down next to him and put a revolver on the floor.

"His Ambassador?"

"Yeah, look at the barrel."

Sniper took it in his hands and looked closely. 

"Yeah, there's a woman engraved on it."

"Snipes, that woman… She… She's my Ma'."

Sniper opened his eyes to the size of a planet. 

"Yer what?"

"My Ma'! So first he knows my name and then he knows what my mom looks like… How could he know? He couldn't just happen to engrave any woman and it looked like my Ma'? Or did he find that gun somewhere and-wait, can you even  __ find a gun with a lady that looks like my Ma' engraved on it?!"

Scout paused to catch his breath.

"He must have gone into my room and searched through my things… Spies will be spies…"

Mundy was about to speak but chose to remain silent. Scout would understand. Someday. 

"Why did you come here?"

"I-I don't know… I guess I just wanted to help. How d'you feel?"

"A better question would be  _ 'how bad do I feel'..." _

Scout sat down facing his colleague who sighed. 

"You did like him a lot, eh?"

"Y-yeah… I did. And now he's gone to the other side of the planet…"

Sniper paused before adding:

"The wanker."

And he heard it in his head, Lucien's voice answering back. 

_ Imbécile. _

_ [Imbecile!] _

Mundy bit his lip to smother down that tight knot that he felt in his throat. 

"Y'know he wasn't a bad man, Scout. He… He might seem cold-hearted, arrogant, full of himself but if you had learnt to know him, you'd have known how he really was."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's… He's very protective and can be very loving. You wouldn't believe how soft he is."

Mundy's mind rolled back to that time when Lucien had clung to him in the bathroom, the evenings in front of the fire, how each time they were sitting on the sofa, he would snuggle up to him, rest his head on the Australian's shoulder, always.

"What? Really?"

"Yeah, he's a bloody surprise and a half that man. He… He's very caring and respectful too."

"Snipes, I'm gonna tell ya, when I first met him, he didn't do so much as look at me in the eye!"

"When you first met him?"

"Yeah, when we arrived in the base."

"Ah, yeah, o'course."

Silence fell and Mundy resumed his polishing of his rifle. 

"You miss him?"

The Australian nodded.

"Uhm… I might have somethin' to help ya. See, each time I feel down or I miss Ma' too much, I use this…"

The young man took his backpack and opened it. He got a thick book out and moved to sit next to Sniper, tossing his bag away. 

"What's that?"

"It's a photo album. Look…"

The young man opened it and started going through the pictures. It started with baby Scout,  _ baby Jeremy _ ; which Mundy was sure Lucien would argue he still is.  _ Baby Jeremy. _

"Hold on… Yer name…"

Mundy pointed at the writing under the picture.

"Yeah I don't know why on this picture it's written with those weird ticks on the  _ 'e' _ s and the handwritin's very fancy…"

_ Jérémy. _

Mundy put a hand on his mouth as he recognised the handwriting, and then smiled. 

_ So you had other secrets, you bloody devil. _ He thought.

"... It makes it look nice eh? It's like callipha- calligra- calli-uh, writing nicely."

"You mean calligraphy?"

"Yeah, that thing."

Mundy smiled. 

"Yeah, I s'ppose it's calligraphy. The handwriting is beautiful."

"Yeah, Ma' told me it was my dad's. He was quite a good artist; probably the only good thing I got from him."

Mundy's mind went to Lucien's singing and his skills for engraving. 

"Yeah, no doubt."

The young man flicked through the pages and showed his brothers, his home and his mother. 

"Good lookin' lady she is."

"Yeah, yeah, that's why I look handsome, I got it all from her!"

Mundy rolled his eyes up. 

_ Ya wanker, your father also looks bloody gorgeous! _

"Do you have a picture of yer dad?"

"Uh, yeah, I have just one… let me get it…"

The young man flicked through the pages quickly and found it. It was a black and white photograph of both his parents together. He handed it to Mundy who looked carefully. They seemed to be in a park, sat on a bench and Scout's mother was holding Lucien's arm while leaning against him. He was looking down at her lovingly, a wide and warm smile on his lips. 

"Yer dad wasn't bad lookin' either eh…"

"I guess…"

"You don't like him?"

Sniper handed the picture back to his colleague.

"Well what would you feel if your dad had ran away and didn't want you?"

"Maybe he did want you. Maybe he'd be proud of what you've become?"

"Nah, Ma' said he fled cause he didn't want me."

"Have you asked him?"

"How could I? I know nothing about him. I don't know his name, his address or what he is."

"Have you asked yer mum?"

"Yeah, countless times. She said he was a criminal of some sort,  _ 'a double-edged bastard' _ or something like that, whatever that means…"

"Shame Spy isn't here anymore then."

"Why? What does it have to do with him?"

"Well, you might not know it but Lu-"

Mundy bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut.

"I mean  _ Spy _ was the best spy in France for the past few decades."

"No…?"

Scout's jaw dropped. 

"Like-like the actual best spy?!"

"Yeah, the number one. He knew some very important people. Still knows them. He knows a lot of people and his job is to know information that is not usually accessible. So if anyone could have helped you track yer father down, it would have been him."

Scout sighed. 

"Fuck, I had no idea he was that good… That's true… I'd never thought about that…"

Mundy smiled albeit sadly. 

"D'you know how we could contact him?"

"Who?"

"Spy!"

"Nah."

"Wait, he left you without leaving a phone number or anythin'?!"

Mundy nodded sadly. 

"Oh… I-I'm sorry…"

"Not yer fault, and nothin' you could do."

Scout stared at his colleague who had been cleaning the same side of his rifle for more than an hour now. It couldn't possibly shine more, in contrast with the state of his mind. Mundy felt like all the lights in his head, all those that were buzzing happily like fireflies in a clear night by a lake or a pond; all of them were dead and a thick black fog had taken their place. The fog of confusion, frustration. Ha, it took him back to that nightmare were Lucien had turned into a thick cloud of smoke and had dived in Mundy through his lungs. 

"Bugger!"

The Australian exclaimed out of the blue. His younger colleague got startled. 

"What?! What is it?!"

"N-nothing, sorry…"

"Snipes, you scared me!"

"Sorry, mate…"

Sniper put his rifle aside. 

"D'you mind if you go? I think I need some time alone."

"Yeah, ok, that's cool."

"Thanks for comin', mate. Was nice talking to you."

"Yeah, you too!"

Scout put his photo album back in his bag, as well as Lucien's Ambassador and left the Australian alone in his van. Sniper waited to hear that Scout's footsteps had died away. He then sprang up to his feet and put a hand on his brow. He opened wide eyes and felt the sweat down his spine.

_ Bugger, the nightmares! They're gonna come back…! _

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought in the comments! :)

Mega thanks to the people on discord :) 

Stay tuned for 40!


	40. Chapter 40

"Mundy?"

"Lu'?!"

The Australian looked around him. It was pitch dark but he could smell it. 

_ His cigarettes. _

"Lu', it's you, where are you?"

No answer. Mundy walked around, trying to follow the smell. 

"Meow?"

Mundy looked down and Perle was at his feet. 

"Hey, pretty cat, where's Lu'?"

She shook her fur and lied down. The Australian crouched down and stroked her. 

"Please, tell me where he is." 

The cat didn't flinch. Mundy raised his head and started calling out loud. He rose to his feet and continued to walk, still shouting his lover's name. He didn't know what direction he had chosen and where it would lead him but as long as the smell of his lover's cigarettes hung in the air, he knew it was the right one. 

Mundy arrived in a corridor. There were windows left and right. Through some, a pale moonlight was shining, through others, it was completely dark or daytime bright. The Australian looked through the first one. Lucien was sleeping peacefully in his big double bed. The second one showed Lucien through the markman's scope, sapping a sentry. Through another one, Mundy saw his lover in his suite on the sofa, leaning against his shoulder. The Australian quickened his pace. The following window showed Lucien and Mundy fighting with snowballs, another one showed them taking a shower together. Mundy couldn't bear it, he started running, only catching a glimpse of every window. It hurt him. It hurt him to see himself  _ happy _ because he knew that he wouldn't be that anymore. As he ran through the endless black corridor, the windows rolled before his eyes like the reel film of the best days of his life.

He stopped at the last window. What first caught his attention is that it was much bigger than the previous ones, hell, it was a French window!

He got closer and stopped to watch.

Lucien was dressed in his work suit with his mask and gloves on. He was sitting at a table, a cigarette in his hand. He seemed thoughtful until someone came. The Frenchman stood up and greeted that person with a hug. Mundy smiled, thinking it was himself. 

_ "Bonjour, Monsieur. Alors, je t'ai manqué?" _

_ [Hello Mister. So, did you miss me?] _

The mysterious man turned to face Mundy. He was smiling devilishly and Mundy recognised him instantly. 

" _ BASTARD!" _

The Australian lunged forward to tackle the BLU Spy, forgetting the glass panel between them. He just bumped off of it but didn't manage to get through it. The BLU Frenchman winked at him to mock him and took Lucien by the hand. The Australian banged his fist loudly on the window and shouted repeatedly.

" _ STOP! LU'! YOU BASTARD BLU SPY! LEAVE HIM ALONE! LUCIEN! LUCIEN?!" _

And before his eyes Lucien hugged his BLU counterpart dearly. Mundy sank to his knees.

_ "AAAARGH!" _

Mundy woke up in his van, still fully dressed and lying against the wall. He felt a trail of cold sweat run down his spine. 

"Bloody hell… The nightmares… Again…"

He took a moment to catch his breath and dispel that last image that nonetheless stuck in his mind. 

"Bugger…"

Mundy looked around him. His rifle was on the floor, between his legs, and everything seemed lifeless. Was that how things used to be before?  _ Lifeless? _

Maybe. He couldn't remember. Wait, how could he not remember?! He's lived most of his life in that van, why did it feel different now? When did it stop to feel like home? Where did that feeling of safety in a place that he knew too well go?

Mundy put a hand on his brow and let it sink down to his chin.

"I'm bloody useless…"

He sighed. He knew he needed Lucien and he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. His eyes moved everywhere and stopped suddenly. 

"Ah, I know what I'm going to do…"

Mundy raised himself to his feet. His back hurt, his neck too and oh Lord, his bottom felt sore. He dragged himself to the counter and put a disk on the record player.

From that night on, Mundy always put a disk on to find peace in his sleep. 

_ \-- Weeks later, on the battlefield -- _

The weather was still cold but the snow had cleared. 

" _ MISSION BEGINS IN 30 SECONDS!" _

Mundy took a sip of his coffee and put his mug on a crate. Bitter, as he always liked it. 

_ Roight, let's do this.  _

He got closer to the window and scoped in.

" _ 5…4...3...2…1...BEGIN!" _

The BLU gates opened. 

_ BOOM! _

"Wave goodbye to yer head, wanker!"

The BLU Sniper fell and Mundy smiled. Each time he took a successful shot at either the BLU Spy or Sniper, he would feel immensely satisfied. He knew it wasn't much - actually it was absolutely nothing - but he took those shots for  _ that man. _

_ BOOM!  _ And there goes the Medic.

It had been weeks now that he was single again and he had got used to it again. His solitary life had only changed a little. Actually now that he thought about it, apart from the record player, it hadn't changed much. 

_ BOOM! _ Another head popped. 

_ Funny how some people stick around for not that long but leave a permanent mark to you… _

_ BOOM!  _ Demo down.

_ … While others are there for much longer but don't seem to affect you that much. _

_ BOOM!  _ BLU Sniper again. Mundy spat to mock him. 

_ Bah, as if I had a lot of people stickin' by for a long time. There's no one really… _

_ BOOM!  _ Fat man? Dead.

_ Apart from him. And he's been gone for weeks. And I've lived through weeks without him.  _

The match went on and ended with RED's victory. 

_ \-- RED Base -- _

The mercenaries on the RED team were enjoying a nice dinner around a table of friends. The new Spy was settling in nicely. He was much more open and friendly than Lucien had been at first. 

Sniper opened the kitchen door and went to the fridge. He made himself a sandwich and left.

"Looks like Snipes is back to what he was when we started workin' here." Said Scout after the Australian left the room. 

"I'll try and invite him 'round the table tomorrow." Engie answered. 

"Didn't you already try?"

"Yeah, but that was right after Spy had left."

"How long has it been, now?"

Demo frowned and started counting on his fingers, mumbling to himself. 

"It's been 16 weeks, laddie."

"What?! No! It's been much less!"

"Mmph-mmph!" Said Pyro, raising 8 fingers.

Soldier tried to count on his fingers, he was visibly confused. 

"Hang on Demo, how can you count till 16 on your fingers?" Scout exclaimed. 

"Well ye got twenty fingers right?"

"No! I only got ten!"

"Look, lad!"

Demo raised right hand up. 

"That's 10…"

He raised his other hand. 

"And that's another 10!"

"What?! That's five and five!"

Medic raised a fry from his plate. 

"Demo, how many fries am I holding?"

"Well, ye have two of them."

The German doctor rolled his eyes up and smiled. 

"Demo, you'd better go easy on the bottle…"

"I am! I swear I didn't have more than… uh… wait…" The Scotsman started counting on his fingers again. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

All the faces turned to the new Spy. 

"Sniper used to come to dinner before?"

The mercenaries looked uncomfortable and the silence that followed their new colleague's question weighed heavily on the room. 

"Da." Heavy simply answered. 

"Well, you see pardner, the Spy before your time was uhm…  _ very close friends _ with Sniper. And since he got fired, Sniper's gone back to bein' very uh… solitary. He used to be like that before he got close to Spy."

"Oh, I see."

Spy wanted to ask why his predecessor had got fired but feeling the discomfort and awkwardness in the room, he decided against it.

_ \-- Sniper's van, later that evening -- _

There was a knock at the door. 

"Who is it?"

"Uhm, it's me, Spy."

Mundy raised a surprised eyebrow. He slid down his bed, stopped the record player and opened the door.

"Hm?"

"Sorry to bother you. Can we have a chat please?"

The Australian rolled up his eyes, visibly annoyed. 

"Gimme a minute and I'll come out."

"Thanks."

_ \-- Far away from there -- _

The man in the tall black coat sat down at a table. He removed his hat and coat, and sat down. He lit a cigarette, looking around him in the bar. 

_ Meh… _

He looked at the few people scattered everywhere, spread his newspaper on the table and started reading. The headlines were always more selling that the actual content. Some things never change. Unfortunately, those things that never change were not the ones that that man wanted.

A waiter passed by and he ordered a coffee. Black, no sugar. The waiter nodded and went on his way. 

He puffed on his cigarette while his grey, tired eyes lazily followed the insignificant prints on the cheap paper. 

_ Pfff… _

Nothing exciting was happening. Well, the usual wars and massacres, the overthrown governments and the military coups.  _ He raised an eyebrow and smiled and disdain, because that was the only smile he was capable of doing now. Disdain, contempt, pride*. _ He used to be part of these events, a couple of decades ago, in the shadows. But that was in a previous life.

His coffee landed in front of him and he nodded in thanks. He took the first sip and it cleared the fog in his mind. Or as much as it could. It was bitter, very much so. He used to take it with sugar but he learnt to like the bitterness. It was a souvenir to a previous, sweeter life.

Someone opened the bar's main door and a gust of wind flew in. The long hair on the old man's face followed the cold air. He grumbled, tied his hair in a ponytail and resumed his reading. His hair was that long now and he didn't have the strength to go and cut it. 

A family came in, a couple with two children. One of them pointed and stared at the old man. He frowned at the kid and it was enough to scare him away. No surprise, with his bushy, grey and white beard.

Ah, he remembered when he cared about his looks. He remembered when he used to shave, dress nicely and take care of himself. Those days are gone, long gone. Now when he dressed up, it was to keep warm because he was always cold even though the days were getting warmer.

He crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw his reflection on the bar's front window. The dark bags under his eyes as well as the salt and pepper hair and beard; all that made him look even older than he was. And God he felt old…! 

He lit another cigarette.

Old and tired. His age he saw everyday on the newspaper, at the top, in small letters. The date. And everyday he saw the digits roll and fly as his beard and hair flowed longer. And his tiredness he owed to a lifelong of running. After what? 

_ Pfff… _

After what indeed… He sighed and pondered. He hadn't run after something specific but rather, he had run  _ away from everything. _ Everything he had touched had rotted in his hands. However hard he had tried to make things right and to make them work, whatever the sacrifices, it had never failed… _ to fail. _

He shall not touch anything else. Non. He had dealt enough damage. 

He stood up and left money on his table. He put on his hat and went back to his room. He opened the door and got greeted by his white cat. 

"Meow?"

He removed his hat and coat and collapsed on his armchair. The fluffy white feline jumped on his master's lap and purred under the old man's thin fingers. In the silence of his lonely room, he pondered. That's what his days looked like now. He wasn't cooking anymore, food had no taste. He didn't feel much hunger either so he was having his lunches and dinners outside. He wasn't doing anything of his days, just waiting. 

She was kneading her paws on her master. 

"Perle…"

"Meow?"

"Aujourd'hui j'ai vu des couples au bistrot, des couples avec des enfants et je me suis rendu compte de quelque chose."

[Today I saw some couples at the bistrot, couples with children and it hit me in the face.]

She raised her head.

"Je me suis battu toute ma vie pour devenir quelque chose. J'ai essayé de toutes mes forces. Mais j'ai toujours échoué. Je ne suis qu'un inutile, quelqu'un qui ne sert à rien, même pas à lui-même. Je n'ai rien fait de ma vie que trouver des moyens de ne pas laisser l'ennui me tuer. Mais que reste-t-il?"

[I fought all my life to become someone. I tried with all my heart. But I've always failed. I am but a useless member of society, someone who is of no use, not even to myself. I have done nothing in my life but find ways to not let boredom kill me. But what remains in the end?]

Perle was used to these speeches. She had been hearing them for 2 months now, everyday and she had the same reaction. She would brush her head against her master's head, while closing her eyes. That cat had spent most her days comforting her master until he had met  _ that man. _ Unfortunately, there was nothing a feline could do to help but be there, show the Frenchman that he existed. If he could hear her meows, if he could feel her soft fur against his skin, if he could still see his reflection in her big blue eyes, that meant that he was still alive.

He lit a cigarette.

Well,  _ alive… _ He didn't feel like he was alive at all. He even came to accept that well, that chapter of his life he was writing would be the last. What's next, after that? Of course he had no idea. But one thing he knew. He would leave all his had to his son, including Perle. He also would tell her sometimes. 

"S'il te plaît, promets-moi de prendre soin de lui comme tu l'as fait avec moi. C'est pas un mauvais bougre, il est juste jeune et naïf."

[Please, promise me to take care of him as you did me. He's not a bad man, he is only young and naive.]

He turned his head and looked through the window as he crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray next to him. The moon and the stars were peeking at him through it. He stood up and opened it, resting his elbows on the windowsill. 

The last time he had watched the stars, he was in the arms of the man he loved back then.

_ Back then? _

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

I received lot of comments for chapters 35 and 36, thank you so much!!!

Thank you to the discord crew! :)

*I used the exact same line as in Chapter 3, at the very beginning of the story c: !

Stay tuned for 41!


	41. Chapter 41

Sniper exited his van and found the Spy outside. 

"Ah, there you are."

"What do you want?" The Australian asked drily. 

"Well, I've been working here for two months and we've barely exchanged any words."

Spy waited but saw that his colleague hadn't flinched. 

"Look, I've talked to the rest of the team and even if I don't know the whole story, I understand a bit better why you wouldn't talk to me much."

Mundy raised his eyes and looked at his colleague. 

"However, I felt that I must come to you and tell you that I have absolutely nothing against you and-"

"Is that it?"

Mundy cut him short. His colleague looked at him with sorry eyes. 

"You liked him a lot, hm, the previous Spy?"

Mundy sighed and rolled his eyes. He turned on his heels and was about to go back to his van. 

"Attends!"

[Wait!]

Upon hearing the words in French, the Australian stopped sharp. He turned to face his colleague, frowning. Spy asked.

"You understand French?"

Mundy nodded. 

"Bien, I am French myself, you see. I've heard people say that my predecessor was French too, right?"

The Australian nodded again but looked annoyed. 

"Look, I'm busy, what do you want exactly?"

"They say that he was an excellent spy. Scout even told me he was the best in the world… That boy likes to exaggerate to make himself sound more interesting but-"

"No." Mundy cut him sharp.

"Don't you think so?"

The Australian took the couple of steps that separated him from his colleague and put his hands on his shoulders.

"What you said is wrong. I know that Spy was the best of the secret service back in  _ your country. _ He…"

Sniper's yielded to the anger and frustration boiling inside him. His grip on his colleague's shoulders tightened and his voice got louder. 

"He was the best Spy, alroight? Better than that bloody BLU piece of shit and that anyone else!"

Seeing his colleague with wide open eyes made Mundy realise that he had gone too far. He released his colleague's shoulders and took a step back. The Australian put a hand on his face as he lowered his face. 

"Sorry."

"It's fine. I can understand."

Mundy raised his head. 

"Nah, you can't."

Silence fell until the Frenchman asked.

"You say he was the best spy back in France?"

Mundy crossed his arms on his chest. 

"Spy was the best one of his kind in France for the past few decades. He personally knew a couple of your ministers of defense."

"Wait, wait a minute. Has he ever talked about his job?"

Mundy raised a surprised eyebrow. He didn't know where this was going.

"Y-yeah, to me, he did."

"Oh, interesting… Anything he said about the conflicts he took part in?"

"Second World War for sure, the rest I don't know. But he was  _ big. _ "

"Hm.."

The Frenchman lit a cigarette and put a hand on his chin as he dived deep in his thought. Mundy coughed a couple of times and that brought the Frenchman back to reality. 

"Oh, sorry, is it my cigarettes?"

Mundy nodded while coughing and the Frenchman crushed his cigarette under his foot. 

"Sorry, Sniper…"

The Australian shrugged.

"Has he ever mentioned that he'd go back to France at some point?"

"No."

"Has he ever talked about his ties with France at all?"

"No."

"That's curious… Is he a bit taller than me, a bit larger in the shoulders, very light blue eyes and about ten years older than me or so?"

Mundy took a step back as he frowned. 

"Y-yeah."

"Has he ever told you his name?"

"Yeah."

"Is it Lucien by any chance?"

Mundy's jaw dropped. 

"Ah, so it is  _ him. _ " The Frenchman said, smiling.

"You-you know him?"

"Maybe we can discuss this inside? It's getting quite cold."

Mundy nodded and opened his van. They both entered and took a seat on the very old couch underneath the bunk bed. 

"So, you know him?"

"The question would rather be,  _ who doesn't? _ "

"What do you mean?"

"Sniper, if he really is Agent Lucien Le Bel then he is indeed the most talented individual that the French secret service has seen for a long time."

"Wait,  _ 'Le Bel',  _ is that his last name?"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Non, it was his nickname, 'le bel' means-"

"The handsome one." Mundy cut him. 

"Oui, indeed. It is also a reference to a king from a long time ago called Philippe Le Bel. He apparently was very handsome."

"That king or…?"

"Both. Although I've never had the privilege to meet that king or Lucien Le Bel, both were said to be incredibly good looking."

Mundy smiled. 

"Would you confirm, Sniper?"

The Australian nodded and the Frenchman smiled before he resumed his speech.

"Our instructors used to tell us the tales of legends about him, how he helped defeat the Germans, how he sometimes single-handedly overthrew governments or saved peace in some regions of the world. Oh, the Minister of Defense who was in place back when I was still learning was apparently sending him letters regularly, begging him to come back and become an instructor."

Mundy's eyes were open wide. He put a hand in front of his wide open mouth.

"Oui, Lucien was an example to follow."

"D'you what happened to him after his time in the secret services?"

"All I know is that he retired, not more."

"Have you already met him?"

"Non, unfortunately. I wish I had. He's… Ah, how shall I say that… He seems  _ inspiring. _ "

"Oh?"

"Oui, there are stories, Sniper, oh mon Dieu… There's this story of how he managed to escape a high security prison… Some say he was such a good Spy that he could pass as your own mother and you would never know! Other would say that he wouldn't pass  _ as _ your mother, but  _ on _ her, if you catch my drift…"

Mundy was smiling, sadly, but he was nonetheless smiling with dreamy eyes.

"Please, Spy…"

"Oui?"

The Frenchman raised his eyebrows and watched as his tall colleague picked a pack of cigarettes off his counter. He offered Spy to have one.

"Ah, I've just got 2 cigs left…"

"I thought you couldn't stand the smell of cigarettes?"

"Nah, I just… I just only smoke these. Go on then, have one."

Spy nodded and happily took one. 

"Thanks. Mon Dieu, they cost quite a bit more than mine these ones. The brand is quite rare to find outside of Fr-.. oh…"

Spy knew that brand, it was a French one. The only shop that sold them was miles away from the base. That's when he understood what Sniper did during his weekends and why he was going away, only to be seen again on Monday morning on the battlefield. Mundy pretended he hadn't heard him and lit his cigarette. He puffed on it before asking:

"Can you… Can you tell me more?"

Spy softened. 

"Of course. But before I do, may I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"When I came to knock at your door, I heard some music. Now, I might be missing home too much but I would have sworn it was Edith Piaf."

"You got some ear, yeah, it was her."

"You like listening to that type of music?"

"Yeah I do."

"I personally don't. It's a bit outdated in my opinion. But I will admit it's a classic and I guess she got so famous that you heard her songs even from Australia!"

"Yeah, nah, it's Lu'... I mean Lucien. He was the one who made me discover French music. He used to like it and now I do too."

The Frenchman was listening and it wasn't nostalgia he was hearing. Hell, that poor man was smoking his ex-lover's cigarettes, listening to  _ his _ music, God knew what else he had kept from Lucien!

" _ La Vie en Rose  _ is my favourite, it was  _ his _ too."

"You have quite a good pronunciation of French, you learnt it at school? Or maybe you lived in France for some years?"

Mundy shook his head.

"Nah, that's him too, I had learnt some French at school but God I was awful at it!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, you wouldn't believe. I was bad at languages, terribly bad, until I met  _ him. _ He… He taught me a lot of things and unlike at school, I managed to learn quite a bit!"

"He sounds like a competent teacher."

"The best one I've ever had."

_ The cigarettes, the music and now the language… _ The Frenchman thought.

"It's a shame he didn't come back to train us in France."

Mundy smiled. He took an empty can and put it between him and the Frenchman, between the cushions of the sofa. That made for an ashtray. He looked at his colleague a bit better. He was much younger than Lucien, maybe about Mundy's age if not a bit younger, more round-faced and more jovial overall. But that cold elegance that Lucien had,  _ that _ was irresistible. It made him look out of anyone's reach, out of everyone's league. The charm in his silhouette, his cat-like gait, his- 

Mundy stopped his thought. It only hurt more. He looked at his colleague.

"So please, Spy, can you…?"

"Oh, oui, of course, I was meant to tell you more about Lucien Le Bel…"

And both mercenaries spent the evening together until quite late. One telling the tales of Lucien Le Bel, while the other listened, a wide smile on his lips and his eyes half-closed. They were both having a good time, not knowing that miles and miles away, the object of their conversation was not going through a nice moment. 

_ \-- Lucien's room -- _

Lucien was lying in bed, Perle lying next to him. He was stroking her, waiting for sleep to come as he stared in her eyes. He had left the radio on, with a very low volume, just enough to cover the silence of his solitude. Songs rolled, one after the other. He listened a bit more closely.

_ Tu sais, je vais t'aimer _

_ [You know, I will love you] _

_ Même sans ta présence _

_ [Even though you're absent] _

_ Je vais t'aimer _

_ [I will love you] _

_ Même sans espérance _

_ [Even without any hope for anything] _

_ Je vais t'aimer _

_ [I will love you] _

_ Tous les jours de ma vie _

_ [Everyday of my life] _

_ Dans mes poèmes je t'écrirai _

_ [In my poems, I will write for you] _

_ C'est toi que j'aime _

_ [It's you I love] _

_ C'est toi que j'aimerai _

_ [It's you I will love] _

_ Tous les jours de ma vie _

_ [Everyday of my life] _

_ Tu sais, je vais pleurer _

_ [You know, I will cry] _

_ Quand tu t'éloignera _

_ [When you will go away] _

_ Je vais pleurer _

_ [I will cry] _

_ Tous les jours de ma vie _

_ [Everyday of my life] _

Tears streamed silently on Lucien's face. He turned in his bed and switched the radio off before facing his cat again, his tears still running down on his face.

"Perle?"

The cat raised her head off the bed. 

"Il me manque. Il… Il me manque, je l'aime encore… Je l'aime encore, merde."

[I miss him. I-I miss him, I still love him… I still love him, shit.]

He put his hand on his face to cover his crying as his breath broke out of sync. He cried more and more. 

"Merde Perle! Je n'arrive pas à l'oublier, putain de merde!"

[Shit Perle! I can't forget him, fucking hell!]

His pillow absorbed the waters of his heartbreak as his cries put him to sleep. 

_ \-- The next day -- _

The Frenchman was on his armchair and his cat jumped on his lap. He looked at her big blue eyes. 

_ Qu'est-ce que tu vas faire aujourd'hui, Lucien? _

_ [What will you do today, Lucien?] _

She bent her head on the side as she asked her question with her eyes. 

"Rien."

[Nothing.]

_ Lucien? _

"Quoi?"

[What?]

_ Tu ne peux pas rester comme ça. _

[You can't stay like that.]

He rolled his eyes up. 

"Je n'ai pas le choix. Je n'ai le goût à rien."

[I don't have any other choice. I don't feel like doing anything.]

Perle stood on her back legs and put her front paws on her master's face, on his cheeks.

_ Tu dois prendre une décision. _

_[You must_ _make up your mind.]_

"Je ne peux pas. Je n'y arrive pas."

[I can't. I'm not managing to move on.]

"Meow."

Lucien had leant his head on the sofa's back, he stared at Perle's eyes and she was staring back.

"Il avait de si beaux yeux."

[He had such beautiful eyes.]

He sighed. 

"J'en parle au passé comme si… comme si… Pff…"

[I speak of him in the past as if… as if… Pff…]

"Meow."

The Frenchman dived deep in thought.

_ What choice do I have? Rot here or rot there. It's absolutely the same. Pff… I wish I could be… I wish I could be with him. I need him. I need him so much. _

He frowned.

_ Wait. It's been a couple of months now. Maybe he has moved on. Maybe he managed to turn the page, as we say. Maybe he's forgotten about me, or maybe I'm just a story of the past now, an ex-partner. _

Lucien couldn't possibly call Mundy his ex-lover. He was still with him, very much so. His heart was still tied to that tall man with ridiculous sideburns. And that had changed him a lot. Yes, Lucien had always been a womanizer, but not anymore. Now he was just far from the object of his desires. He just wasn't able to see beauty or charm in anyone else. How did he do it before? How did it work? How was it again? He would walk in the streets, cross paths with a charming lady and then what? Did he wink? How did he do it to catch her eye? 

Bah, in any case now, no one was charming. The people he would cross paths with were empty shells walking around just to give the impression that he wasn't alone in the world, where he definitely felt like it anyway. Also, how does one find someone charming? Or good-looking? Or attractive? What features should one look for? 

Lucien sighed. 

He knew all theses questions were useless. You can't reason feelings. You can't consciously look for some features, make the decision that this or that person was attractive and then approach them. Oh, wait, how does one approach an attractive person again? 

Lucien sighed again.

All this discussion he was having with himself was preposterous and utterly ridiculous. As if he was still good-looking and charming! No one looked at him the same way anymore in the streets! The man was old, with long hair and a long bushy beard! Most of the time people looked at him like a beggar with a nice coat!

Perle laid on her master's chest and started purring under his fingers. 

Pfff… 

Lucien felt broken. He was not himself anymore. He used to be a spy? Not anymore. He used to be good-looking? Not anymore. He used to have piercing blue eyes? Now they were just grey and dull. 

He used to live in France? Not anymore. 

He had spent the past couple of months in a hotel next to the airport, incapable of leaving.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

Let me know what you thought of this in the comment and I hope the final line slapped you across the face as much as it did me when I got the idea! ^^

Mega thanks to the people on discord who support me :) 

Stay tuned for 42!

  
  



	42. Chapter 42

"Je sors pour déjeuner, tu veux venir avec moi?"

[I'm going out to have lunch, you want to come with me?]

Lucien had put on his hat and coat and today, he didn't want to go out alone. Today was one of those days where he didn't have the strength to face the outside world on his own. It felt like the sky itself was weighing on his shoulders. He knew it wasn't true but he had the feeling all the eyes around were focusing on him, judging him in silent whispers.

"Meow."

Perle jumped down of her master's armchair and came close to him. He knelt down to tie her leash. He used to have one that went around her neck but not anymore. Lucien had changed it for a harness.

_ C'est ce qu'il m'aurait dit de faire.  _

_ [That's what he would have told me to do.] _

When he tied it, he noticed a detail that didn't fail to make his heart sink. 

_ La clochette. _

The red ribbon with the small bell that Mundy had bought for her, for Christmas. Lucien gulped down hard and pretended it was nothing. He didn't have the heart to remove it. Non. He didn't want to.  _ That man _ had touched it. Lucien ran his fingers on it, as if touching it now made him feel  _ that man _ 's touch again. He sighed as he stood up, opened the door and left, Perle trotting at his side.

The streets were as busy as usual but Lucien didn't like to walk much. He wanted to stay as close as possible to his hotel. He went in the first restaurant that wasn't too crowded and took a seat. Perle jumped on his lap and laid there. He kept a hand on her, just… Well, honestly, it was to give himself strength. 

Since he had been alone, everything cost him too much. Not in money, but in energy. There were even days where opening his eyes in the morning was painful. Again, it was not physical pain but pain in the soul. The kind that you can't kill with aspirin.

The waiter came and he made his order. As his sense of taste had also gone, he just went for the cheap option, half in price and quality with respect to what he was used to eating in his previous life, back when… When what? Well, when his heart beat for a reason, when a sunny day meant something, when… 

Lucien put his fingers on his eyes and screwed them shut, biting his lip. 

"Meow?"

"Oui, ça va… Je…"

[Yes, I'm alright.. I just…]

And there he went again. The piercing through his chest, the knot tying in his stomach, the headache, the impression that the walls of his skull were compressing his brain tighter and tighter. Lucien hissed in pain, through his teeth. 

"Sir?"

He raised his eyes, his hand jumping to his inner vest pocket, to his butterfly knife. Perle rose to her feet and put her front paws on his hand to stop him.

"I'm sorry Sir but pets are not allowed here."

He stared at the young waiter with daggers in his eyes. 

"Uh… Sir?"

"Leave me alone."

"I-I will have to ask you to leave, Sir, I'm sorry…"

"Enfoiré, toi aussi tu veux que je parte?"

[Son of a…, you too, you want me to leave?]

The Frenchman spat as he rose to his feet, holding Perle in his arms. He walked out, accompanied by the surprised eyes of the rest of the clients, following him. 

Once outside, he put Perle on his shoulder where she laid across his shoulders and neck. He only had to bend his back slightly forward for her to stay in balance. Bah, the world was already weighing on his shoulders, compared to that, Perle was but a feather.

He walked as the sound of the nearby planes taking off and landing was deafening. He let his feet guide him. He needed to walk. Well, non. He needed to let go of that frustration. If he could, he would gladly go and kill, slice and shred. But he knew that  _ that man _ wouldn't have wanted that. Non, of course not. If  _ that man _ killed, it was only to hunt for food, with respect. 

"Meow."

"Uh?"

Perle's meow broke his train of thought. He had walked all the way to a park. 

"Oh, pardon ma chérie."

[Oh, sorry sweetheart.]

He took her and delicately dropped her on the ground before resuming his walk. Perle was happy to trot left and right, fight with whatever insects she saw, come back and brush herself on her master's legs and go off again. 

"Perle?"

The cat turned her head. 

"Tu veux que je te libère?"

[I can undo the harness if you want?]

"Meow!"

She trotted to her master again and he removed her harness. 

"Je vais m'asseoir sur ce banc, tu reviens dans une dizaine de minutes maximum, d'accord?"

[I will sit on this bench, come back in about ten minutes maximum, ok?]

He lowered his voice and added. 

"S'il te plaît, ne me laisse pas seul trop longtemps."

[Please, don't leave me alone for too long.]

"Meow."

He scratched her head and let her go. Lucien turned and sat on the nearby bench. The park wasn't too busy though he saw quite a few people pass him.

"You don't mind me, man?"

An old man sat next to Lucien who didn't flinch. He kept staring at nothing front of him. 

"So, what's up eh? Came to me bench for a reason?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow and turned his head slightly, looking at the old man from the corner of his eye. He was wearing a black, very worn out coat and judging by the way he spoke and the lines on his face, life hadn't been He rolled up his eyes in contempt and lit a cigarette.

"Can we have one of your cigs?"

The Frenchman sighed and extended his hand towards the man sitting next to him, who took a cigarette. 

"Have some fire?"

Lucien tossed his lighter. 

"Oh would you look at that! That's some fancy lighter ye got there eh!"

The stranger lit his cigarette and tossed the lighter back at Lucien. 

"If you don't mind me askin', ye have a very fancy lighter… and a fancy coat… and look at the shoes…  _ feeeew!" _

The old man whistled in appreciation but Lucien remained unmoved. 

"You're not much for talkin', are ye?"

Lucien sighed.

"So what's on your mind, eh? And why the fancy clothes but the long bushy beard… And ye don't look like you've had a haircut for a long time! So… What does a fine gentleman like you do on a bench all alone in such a fine day, eh?"

The Frenchman raised his eyes and indeed, the sun was shining and the sky was clear blue. He lowered his head and shut his eyes. 

"Oooh, the gentleman hadn't realised the weather was good? But the gent' here isn't blind. That means only one thing…"

Lucien raised his piercing eyes and looked the old man in the eye. 

"The gent' is blind from the heart…"

"He is indeed." Lucien answered. 

The old man looked at Lucien, surprised. 

"So what's the matter, eh?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"There was this…  _ person. _ "

"Ah, ladies…"

"Non, a man."

Lucien had nothing to lose. Not anymore. So why not tell the truth? Why not go against what he's been doing for the past  _ life and a half? _

"Oh… Well I s'ppose you can like what ye want eh? But, tell me about that man."

Lucien looked up at the sky.

"He… I… I don't know where to start."

"The beginnin' maybe?"

The Frenchman took a deep breath. 

"I fell for his softness. He is the softest man I have ever met, and the kindest too. The respect he shows for animals is… it leaves me speechless. He is so sensitive, everything is meaningful with him. It's amazing. Everything makes sense!" 

Lucien didn't realise it but he was smiling. 

"I fell for him the moment I realised that all those secrets he kept behind his shyness were actually because he didn't think much of himself. He doesn't realise it but I could never have wished to find anyone better in my life. Before him, I had renounced to find anyone. I had decided to spend the rest of my days alone. Of course, I had the odd adventure here and there, but nothing made sense."

"And then you met him?"

"Oui, I met him and my life flipped upside down. He taught me how to love, from the bottom of my heart, like a madman, to give myself away, learn how to be human again,  _ feel buzzes in my heart and everywhere else. _ I felt like… like I've spent my life a dead flower and he watered me again. Life pumped through my veins and I felt so alive! Day after day I'd wake up knowing that it would be a good day, whatever happened, because I'd see him, I'd be with him."

"Did he feel the same for you?"

"Oui."

"So what happened?"

Lucien's face darkened.

"We used to work in the same place, for the same boss. She fired me."

"Why?"

"Some people discovered about us and were playing with his nerves. So I stepped in and… well… That's the result."

"What a shite boss."

"Quite so."

Perle came back and jumped on the bench, she walked on Lucien's lap and lied there.

"Ah, te revoilà."

[Ah, there you are again.]

The old man watched as the Frenchman lost his hand in Perle's fur, a sad smile on his lips. 

"And when did that all happen?"

"Seventy six days ago."

The old man opened surprised eyes. 

"Ye-ye've been countin'?"

Lucien nodded silently. 

"And what happened after ye got fired?

"I took the first taxi to the airport. I guess it made sense that I would go back to France. But non. I couldn't. So I'm staying in a hotel near the airport. Every plane that takes off or lands I hear from my room. And everytime I can't help thinking  _ 'What if I was on that plane? Would it be better?' _ "

"But here you are, mate. Ye can't leave."

Lucien shook his head and closed his eyes. He put a hand on his eyes. When he removed it, his eyes were glistening. 

"I'm sorry for you."

The Frenchman nodded. 

"You're sayin' he likes too, eh? But why isn't he on this bench with you?"

"The job I had and he still has is not the kind that you can find easily. I think he's holding on to it for that reason. Also…"

"What?"

"Also, it's been a long time now. Maybe he's forgotten about me."

The old saw how much it had hurt to get that sentence out.

"Ye should pick up a job or somethin', that'll help you. I'm sure you can do somethin' here. There are plenty o'places where you could help out. What did ye do before?"

"I was an secret service agent. And before that, I was a singer."

"A singer ye say?!"

"Oui."

"Well there's a place down the avenue behind there, they're looking for someone to sing in the evenings! It's a nice place, quite fancy, I'm sure you'll like it. I know the boss there quite well, Richie. He's a good bloke."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't sing anymore. I had given up singing. Only when I met him did I find it in me to sing again."

"Look here, the way I see it is this: ye either accept that you're no longer together, take your plane and off ye go to France; or you stay here and you need to get yourself busy with somethin', otherwise you'll go mad!"

"Meow."

Lucien looked down at Perle.

_ Écoute-le, Lucien. Tu es déjà en train de devenir fou. Accepte sa proposition. _

_ [Listen to him, Lucien. You are already going mad enough as it is. Accept his offer.] _

"Listen to your cat. She knows."

Lucien lowered his head and removed his hat. He slid his fingers in his hair.

"Fine." 

"So you're sayin' yes?"

"I'll try the place you recommend. When and where should I go? And what's your name?"

"Oh boy, you're comin' now and over there with me. And the name's Old Tom."

The old man stood up and started walking. Lucien followed him closely. 

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you help me? Why do you do all this?"

"Why not?"

They exited the park and walked in the streets. 

"I don't know. You might be busy doing other things and yet you choose to help me."

Tom stopped walking and turned to face Lucien. 

"I know your pain. I've gone through this and I wish someone in the street, anyone really, could have helped me. So here I am."

Lucien softened. 

"Merci, Tom."

The old man started walking again. He pointed at a restaurant. 

_ The Lodge. _

"That's the place, you'll thank me after you get the job. And if ye do, ye owe me a good pint!"

Tom pushed the front door and a small bell jingled. 

"Richard! I got someone for ye!"

The man at the bar turned to face them both. 

"Oh hey Tom and hello Sir...?"

"Lucien. My name is Lucien."

"Doesn't sound very English?"

"It's French. I come from France."

"That's me new friend here!"

Old Tom put a hand on Lucien's shoulder. 

"Mind you, I found him on me bench and guess what?"

"What?"

"The man sings!"

"Ah! Tom, you found us something interesting. A French singer! Come and have a seat Lucien. Would you like something? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be great."

Richard readied the coffee machine.

"The usual for me Richie, if ye please."

"Sure."

Lucien and Tom sat at the bar while Richard prepared the beverages. 

"Here is your pint, Tom. And that's your coffee, Lucien. So…"

Richard leant his elbows on the counter. 

"What can you sing? Have you got any experience with the world of the stage?"

Lucien smiled. He looked at Richard better. The restaurant owner must have been only a couple years older than himself. Most of his hair had long gone but he had the face of a kind man. 

"Oui, I used to be a singer in  _ Le Conquérant, _ the restaurant that is the most sought after in all Paris. It's on the Champs-Élysées."

Richard raised an eyebrow. 

"You're kidding me?"

"Non, I seldom make jokes. You can call them and ask for  _ Le Grand Lulu." _

"D'you mind if I check that quickly?"

"Pray do."

Tom was gobsmacked. He watched as Richard went to the nearby telephone. 

"Hello…? Yes, I'd like to have the  _ Conquerant _ in Paris please… Yes, I'll hold…"

A minute passed before the connection was actually made. 

"Hello, the  _ Conquerant?  _ Yes, I'm the owner of a restaurant here in South Mexico and I have a gentleman here who says he sang in your restaurant. He goes by  _ Le Grand Lulu _ , have you ever heard of-oh… Really…? Wait, what?! Are are you sure…? Oh, yes I can do that…"

Richard turned to Lucien. 

"They want to have a word with you to check that it's really you."

He handed the phone to the Frenchman who took it. 

"Allo? Oui! Oui, c'est moi. Duchemin est là? Passez-le moi alors!... Oui? Duchemin? C'est moi! C'est Lulu, comment vas-tu? Oui, oui. Je te raconterai quand j'aurai le temps. J'ai juste besoin que tu dises à l'homme que je vais te passer au téléphone que je débrouille en chanson s'il te plaît… Merci. Oui, je te rappellerai."

[Hello? Yes! Yes, it's me. Duchemin is around? Pass him the phone then!... Yes? Duchemin? It's me! It's Lulu, how are you? Yes, yes. I will tell you everything later, when I have time. I just need you to tell this gentleman that I am not such a bad singer please… Thanks. Yes, I will call you back.]

Lucien handed the phone back to Richard. 

"Hello? Yes, it's me… So yeah, in terms of experience… Oh, right… And what kind of audience do you usually have?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow and smirked. He was waiting for it. 

" _ WHAT THE-?!" _

His smirk grew wider. 

_ \-- Sniper's van -- _

"Hoo."

"Yeah, Hoots…"

Mundy was lying in his bed, watching the stars. 

"It's, true, you're roight… Whatever happens, the stars still shine at night. They don't really care about what you feel or what you want."

"Hoo-hoo."

Mundy had left the window open and Hootsy flew out. 

"Yeah… The stars don't care, the stars, they…"

_ They shine like his eyes… _

He stared at the stars, blinking slowly. He remembered what Lucien had told him. 

_ You, you are my star. _

The Australian took a deep breath and smiled like an idiot, in the darkness of his lonely room, his eyes riveted on the scintillating blanket God had laid before his eyes. He let his mind escape and dive in the soft comfort of his memories with the Frenchman. The music from the record player helped him fall deep into the nostalgia and he let the bittersweet memories flow back to him. He put his hands below his head and a leg on the other.

"Hoo! Hoo!"

Hootsy flew in and landed on his master's chest. 

"Oh, hey Hootsy!"

The bird dropped something on his master's chest. 

"What did you bring m-?"

Mundy's breath cut short. 

"Wait, wait, wait…"

He jumped down his bed and started looking through his clothes and belongings. 

"I swear it was the last two ones yesterday…"

Doors got flung wide open and stuff flew left and right, clothes, boxes, packs, cutlery, anything. 

"Oh! There it is!"

He got a big white pack. 

"See? It's empty! That's what I thought… So Hootsy, where the hell did you find this cig' now?!" 

Mundy held it up to his feathery friend's face. 

"Where did you fly to find it?"

"Hoo."

"Oh, come on, you can't bring me one of Lu's cigs and then not tell me where you've found it! And I'm sure that I've used the last ones yesterday with Spy. So you didn't find them here."

"Hoo."

"You can't have bought it with money, roight….? And the new Spy's are not of this brand."

Mundy was sitting in the middle of the mess he created in his van, the cigarette between his fingers.

"Hootsy…? Don't give me that blank stare, tell me!"

"Hoo, hoooo!"

The bird flapped his wings and landed on Sniper's knee, facing him. 

"Hoo-hoo hoo!"

"Oh bugger…"

Mundy put a hand on his mouth as he slowly realised. 

"Hoots, I-I… I don't understand anythin' you say…"

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading as always! 

Let me know what you think of this on in the comments!

Mega thanks to the people on discord!

Special thanks for you, the brave one, the courageous one who leaves comments! Know that  _ you _ are partly the reason why I am writing chapter 43 :D !

Stay tuned for it! ;D


	43. Chapter 43

Mundy was lying in his bed again. His van was in total chaos but he could deal with that later. His eyes were again locked on the sky as he fell deep in thought. The Australian was playing with the cigarette between the fingers of his left hand. He slid it under his nostrils, taking the smell in.

_ Wait, what?!  _

He frowned.

_ Vanilla?! _

His eyes snapped wide open.

_ Nah, it can't be… Surely I'm just dreamin' it. _

He closed his eyes and smelled the cigarette again.

_ It's a menthol, alroight and… No but I'm sure there's a faint hint of vanilla, or am I…? Nah, come on, Mundy, trust yerself.  _

He smelled it again. 

_ Need to compare with something that has that smell for sure… Oh, I know! _

The Australian slid a hand underneath his pillow and when his hand emerged it contained two things: Lucien's mask and the note that he had left on the record player. He smelled the piece of paper and then the cigarette again.

_ Bugger!  _

It was the same smell! There was no mistaking it! Sniper's heart violently woke up in his chest.

_ It is his hand cream smell… _

"Hoots, you  _ need _ to tell me where you found this. It can't have been lyin' around here, Lu' was very tidy and even if he liked to spend his money on expensive things, he wouldn't lose a single cigarette."

"Hoo!"

"Oi! Wait!"

Hootsy flew out of the window, leaving his master with a fast heartbeat and the million questions flying in his head. Mundy put the note on his chest and smelled the cigarette again. He closed his eyes. He knew deep down that Hootsy must have found it lying somewhere. Birds can fly over large distances but they can't fly from the US to France and back in a couple of hours. 

Deep down, Mundy knew there was no way this was one of Lucien's cigarettes. Despite that, he wanted to believe that it was one of the Frenchman's. He smiled dreamily and put a hand on his chest.

No,  _ Lucien _ had put his hand on Mundy's chest. He was brushing his chest slowly. The Australian exhaled a long sigh and, with his eyes closed, he could have sworn it was Lucien's hand sliding under his t-shirt.

He smelled the cigarette again. 

Lucien's hand was now on Mundy's stomach, following the trail of short hairs down and it sent shivers everywhere.

"L-Lu…"

The hand now slipped where Mundy thought there was nothing anymore. Only Lucien could wake up those feelings. 

"Bugger."

Mundy couldn't lie to himself more than that and everything stopped sharp. It wasn't Lucien's soft hand, his thin and skilled fingers. Nah, it was Mundy's rough and calloused ones and that broke the illusion.

It had been the first time in more than two months that there was some emotion there but it had cut sharp. Mundy sighed and removed his hand. He put the cigarette and the letter under his pillow and fell asleep on them. 

_ \-- The Lodge, the restaurant -- _

Richard hung up the phone. 

"They say that you've sung for presidents, kings and the like!"

Old Tom's jaw dropped. 

"Oui, I did."

"Bloody hell, you kiddin' me?!"

Lucien smiled and shook his head. 

"Meow!"

Perle jumped on a stool and then on the counter.

"Non, it's true. Oh and please meet Perle, my best friend."

Richard resumed his speech. 

"Oh… They also said you could sing in a lot of languages!"

Lucien took a sip of his coffee and nodded as Perle sat on the counter in front of her master.

"So, Lulu, tell us, whot languages?" Asked Tom. 

"Well, French obviously, English, Spanish, Italian and a bit of Arabic. I can also sing in Portuguese if someone is there to correct my pronunciation. I can read it, but my accent is very far from perfect."

"Meow…?"

Tom smiled. 

"And I guess you can talk in meows too eh?"

Lucien's breath cut short. He couldn't speak in meows but he knew  _ someone _ who was endowed with such a gift.

"N-non. I can't do that."

Richard put a hand on his brow. 

"Good Lord… All this talent and experience and you choose to sing  _ here _ …? May I ask why?"

"You may ask but I will not answer."

Richard looked at Tom who was nodding, a sad look on his face. 

"Fair enough. I will not ask more than that. Although… When would you be ready to start?"

"Anytime. But I need to know what style of restaurant this is to gather songs accordingly. May I have the menu please?"

"Sure thing."

Richard handed Lucien the menu and the Frenchman read it carefully. He glided his gloved finger on the letters as his eyes scanned them quickly. He looked for the wines and read as Richard continued.

"We try and keep it affordable for most people here, although the dream would of course be to push this establishment to be as classy and sought after as possible. But so far, I'd say it's friendly with a hint of classy. For the style of music? Well, I feel like you're the expert, Lucien. So I'd say it's up to you."

The Frenchman closed the menu and put it on the counter.

"Indeed, friendly with a hint of classy. Although, I would replace some of the wines you have."

"You're an expert in wines as well?"

"I know my fair share, I originally come from Bordeaux."

"Ooh… Tom, I don't know where you found this man but he is a gift from the sky!"

Lucien smiled and nodded in thanks. 

"May I ask what instruments will accompany me and when can I meet the musicians?"

Richard looked at Tom and lowered his head slightly. 

"Well, here's the thing. We have a piano and a mic, see they're set up there?"

Richard pointed in the direction of the stage and Lucien nodded.

"And uh… So far… That's more or less the only thing we've got, I'm sorry. I was told on the phone that you used to play with a big band and I don't exactly have that here… I-I'm quite impressed actually. I'd never have expected to have such a great singer…"

"It's fine. When can I meet the pianist?"

"Uuhm…"

Richard looked embarrassed and Lucien understood. 

"You don't have a pianist? It's fine. If you give me some time to train, I should be able to play."

"Wh-what? You know how to play as well?"

Lucien nodded.

"Woah, you certainly are a gift from God himself! I-I'm speechless…"

"You're welcome."

"So, uh, I don't mean to rush you or anything but uh… When do you think you can start? And what will you be singing?"

The Frenchman raised his index finger. 

"Ah, but if we collaborate, Richard, there are certain rules that I insist on."

The director of the restaurant nodded. 

"First, I insist on my freedom. You know how to run a restaurant? Well I know how to run a show. So the choice of songs and the style, all these things you will have to trust me with. In exchange for what? A guaranteed show and more people pouring in night after night, this is my promise."

"Well that sounds very tempting indeed."

"There is another condition, actually two."

"Yes, of course. Anything you want!"

"Perle stays with me all the time."

Richard nodded and Lucien extended his hand as he added:

"Don't treat me as if I was such a talented person. Believe me, I am not. Treat me as an equal, please."

Richard nodded and smiled. He shook Lucien's hand and added:

"In that case, I'm Richie, and here's your new workplace, if you're happy with it?"

"But of course."

Tom smiled. 

"See Richie? Told ye you'd find someone!"

"But wait, Lucien, concerning the pay, I-"

The Frenchman raised his hand and cut him short.

"Whatever you pay is fine. I don't do this for the money."

Richard opened wide surprised eyes.

"Oh, uh, ok…. One last thing, Lucien."

"Oui?"

"Shall we advertise you as Lucien? Or shall we call you  _ Le Grand Lulu _ , like you used to in Paris?"

"Non. I shall be known as Lu'."

"Just  _ Lu'?" _

"Oui."

"Right… Lu'."

Lucien nodded proudly. It was his new name. After  _ Le Grand Lulu _ ,  _ Lucien le Bel _ , now he was Lu'. He had been baptised so by the most important man in his life, the one he shall sing for every night, while he imagined him sitting in the room. 

"Très bien. I'd rather get to it if we want to get the shows to start sooner rather than later. Also that will give you a hint of what I can do, hm? Perle?  _ Au piano ma chérie!" _

_ [To the piano, sweetheart!] _

Tom and Richie watched as the Frenchman leapt on stage, followed by his feline companion. He removed his coat and threw it on a nearby chair. Lucien then tapped lightly on the top of the piano. Perle jumped there and laid as her master sat down in front of the keys. 

Lucien removed his gloves and cleared his throat. 

_ {To the reader: the song is Besame mucho, a Spanish classic! Listen to Andrea Bocelli's version of it as you read if you want!} _

He let his fingers glide over the keys slowly, just to find his way, make the keys his. Lucien adjusted his back and the mic, and started. 

_ "Besame, _

_ [Kiss me]" _

The few clients raised their heads and their voices lowered.

_ "Besame mucho _

_ [Kiss me dearly] _

_ Como si fuera esta noche la última vez _

_ [As if that night was our last] _

_ Besame  _

_ [Kiss me] _

_ Besame mucho _

_ [Kiss me dearly] _

_ Que tengo miedo tenerte y perderte después.." _

_ [Oh how I fear to have you only to lose you afterwards] _

Richard lowered the lights in the room and shone one bright spotlight on Lu. He leant on the counter and enjoyed the Frenchman's voice. He understood why he had been so well recommended by Paris. As Richard's eyes went across the room, he realised all his clients were bewitched. Lu's velvet voice was mastered, his vibrato, enchanting. 

To the Frenchman, he was singing for  _ that man _ , to  _ him. _ He knew his words were dissolving in the air, never to reach the reason his heart was beating for. But he sang with that intention in the heart.

_ "Quiero tenerte muy cerca, _

_ [I want to have you very close] _

_ Mirarme en tus ojos, _

_ [To see myself in your eyes] _

_ Verte junto a mi.  _

_ [To see you together with me] _

_ Piensa que tal vez mañana, _

_ [Think that tomorrow already] _

_ Mañana estaré lejos, muy lejos de ti…!" _

_ [Tomorrow I'll be far, very far from you…!] _

Lucien held that last note beautifully, the vibrato in his voice making the air vibrate with the heartbreak and misery in his heart. 

Richard's jaw dropped and he got impressed as he saw the couples in the restaurant start to hold hands. Lucien had single-handedly managed to turn the atmosphere of the restaurant from friendly to romantic, in half a song.

The Frenchman soon finished singing. He ended his performance with a short solo on the piano. When he finally finished, the room gave him a standing ovation. Lucien stood up and bowed to his audience. 

" _ Mesdames et Messieurs,  _ ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for your appreciation. I would like to thank Tom and Richard for giving me a chance here."

Richard joined Lucien and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"I think we'll keep him in, what do you think guys?"

The long round of applause left no place for doubts.

_ \-- Sniper's van -- _

"Alroight Hoots."

"Hoo?"

"Tomorrow I need to go get some cigs and stuff. Let's check what else we need…"

Mundy was tidying up the mess that he had created. Clothes were thrown back on the shelf, cutlery in the drawer, mugs and boxes back in their cupboards.

"Oh, I think we're runnin' out of food fer you. Let me see here…? Ah yeah, roight, I definitely need to go to town tomorrow or we'll both starve."

"Hoo."

"You're welcome."

Mundy scratched Hootsy's head. 

"I'll go to the base to grab a sandwich or somethin'. And after dinner, I think I'll sleep. It's been quite a tiring week…"

The Australian put on a coat. 

"You look after the house, Hoots?"

"Hoo!"

"Good boy. I shouldn't be too long."

Mundy left his van and walked the few meters that separated him from the base. He pushed the door and entered. The Australian wiped his feet on the doormat and headed straight for the kitchen where he found Engie and Pyro busy cooking. 

"Oh hey Sniper! Good of you to come, and right on time too. I was going to send Pyro to go and get ya for dinner."

"Oh, well I wasn't gonna-"

"Come on, pardner, smell this!"

Engie removed the lid of the large cooking pot and Sniper obliged. 

"Mmh…"

"So, what do you think it is?"

Mundy closed his eyes, frowned and focused, his head still above the pot. 

"Carrots, garlic, onions, lots of them actually…. Beef I'm guessin', or it could be kangaroo but I don't suppose you could buy that easily here… Some potatoes and a hint of… What is it called that herb again…?"

Mundy frowned harder and the memory came in rushing like a wave crashing on the shore. That night when Lucien provoked Scout to take a bet on his tasting abilities. It was the same herb, what was it called…? 

Suddenly, Mundy saw it with his eyes closed as clearly as if it was happening all over again before his open eyes. Lucien lifted his sleeve slightly and tapped on his watch. Mundy's thought process repeated itself like like it had that night. 

_ Why the bloody hell is he showing me his watch?! Is he in a hurry or some'in'?! He doesn't have time-OH! _

"Thyme!"

Engie nodded, smiling.

"I see you still got it Sniper!"

"Well, thanks."

"Alrighty then, please help Py' with the table. And don't forget your own plate!"

Sniper sighed and nodded. 

"Pardner?"

Mundy raised his eyes to meet with his short friend. Engie looked left and right, making sure no one was watching. 

"I'm here if you need. You know, back when Spy-I mean  _ your Spy _ \- was workin' here, he didn't tell me much but uh, I guess I knew him a bit too."

"Oh?"

"The cat door and the uhm… I guess you still have that blade he made for ya?"

Sniper nodded. 

"Y-yeah I still have it and yeah, now that you mention it, I should thank you for it."

"Oh no, pal, I didn't do anything on that blade. It was all Spah. If you'd seen him… There he was on the stool… Now that I think of it, that's the only time I saw him wearin' a pair o'jeans and a hoodie."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Really? Jeans and a hoodie? Lucien?"

Engie nodded. 

"Yeah, I know! He had put the hood on and had spent hours there, silently working on your blade."

Mundy smiled but the Texan saw the heartbreak in his eyes. He put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Sniper, tonight, you're gettin' a good dinner with friends, and I'm one of them. Don't forget I'm here for ya."

The Australian looked at his colleague in the eye. 

"Thanks, Engineer. I-I won't forget it."

"Good. Now off ya go and sit at the table. Py'? Yeah Pyro, could you please tell people that dinner is ready?"

Dinner was spent peacefully and in a jolly atmosphere. Mundy managed to eat some and smile from time to time. His eyes were riveted at the plate of the person opposite him. That was where Lucien used to sit back then. 

_ Back then? _

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

Please do let me know what you think of this one in the comments! 

Mega thanks to people leaving comments, you give me fuel to continue and you make me upload stuff and write faster :D

Thanks to the discord crew :)

Stay tuned for 44!

  
  



	44. Chapter 44

Lucien had come early in the morning and started rehearsing. He repeated the same songs again and again to get his hands used to playing the piano. Perle was there too, lying on top of the piano, her fluffy tail waving under her master's voice.

"Lu, I'm off to buy some stuff, you need anything?"

The Frenchman's back was hunched on the piano. He was scribbling the notes and chords on a page in front of him. He raised his head after a few seconds. 

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"I'm going out to buy a couple of things. Do you want me to get you something?"

"Ah, non merci Richie."

"Uhm actually, I'd need you to do something for me…"

Lucien put the pen on the piano, next to Perle and listened. 

"On my way I might as well get John, he's a local artist. He'll come and think of something for the posters that we'll stick around town to advertise you a bit."

"Oh, fine."

Richie blushed slightly. He seemed embarrassed.

"Yeah, uhm, is it possible that uh… I mean I don't know if you want to keep your beard and long hair…?"

And it hit Lucien. He had got so used to it that he had forgotten that he looked like a homeless man in fancy clothes. 

"Excellent remark actually, Richie. I'll go and sort myself out before your friend John arrives."

"Ah, yeah, thanks Lu. Ah! Wait, I have something for you…!"

Richie put a hand in his bag and got a can out. He threw it to Lucien who caught it with ease. 

"That might help!"

Lucien nodded and Richard left the restaurant. The Frenchman then left his seat to go backstage, the shaving foam in his hand. Richie had made a lot of effort to make his restaurant as good as he wanted it to be. He had ordered the backstage area to be rearranged into different separate rooms. One had a sign with Lucien's handwritten name on it. He pushed the door and headed for the sink. He stared at the mirror. 

"Est-ce que je rase tout ou est-ce que je taille seulement?"

[Should I cut and shave everything or should I just trim it?]

"Meow!"

The Frenchman frowned and stared more intensely. His name was now Lu' so he should become Lu' again.

"Tu as raison, Perle."

[You're right Perle.]

He turned and grabbed the phone. 

"I need to ask for the good places. I'll ask Fernand back in France. He must know…"

_ \-- Mundy's van -- _

"Roight Hootsy, I'll go and get some cigs. Wanna come with me?"

"Hoo!"

Mundy exited the back of his van with his companion on his shoulder. He locked the backdoor and went to sit at the front. The Australian fastened his seatbelt while Hootsy jumped to the passenger seat. He started the engine and off they rode. 

The journey would be long. It took a couple of hours to cross the desert and arrive in Santa Fe. The city was sufficiently far in land that it was a busy hub of traffic, may it be road or even air. Its proximity with the Mexican border made it a commercially strategic centre.

Of course Mundy didn't care about all this. All that mattered was that it was a large enough city to have at least one shop with Lucien's cigarettes. 

He sighed at the thought of it. Mundy used to smoke occasionally, but that was before he had fallen in love with the Frenchman. Now, the only way to smell him and feel his kisses was to smoke those cigarettes, those that he used to taste on his lover's lips.

Mundy changed gear and crushed the gas pedal under his foot. The journey would be long and as usual when he went to buy the cigarettes, it hurt. It hurt because it made him realise and verbalise all the heartbreak he was trying to hide at work. 

Maybe Lucien had moved on? Maybe Mundy was but another success for the French God of romance? Maybe he was now but a tender souvenir for the Frenchman? Who knows…? 

Mundy sighed. In a way, it both hurt him more and less. More, because Lucien was far from being  _ just a souvenir _ for the Australian. He had been clinging on to him by all means possible. The record player, the music, the cigarettes, the language…

And now the journey, this  _ pilgrimage _ . The solitude of the long hours in the van made him think a lot, about himself amongst other things, about his family too. What would his parents think? So far, he had not told them. But it had been close to three months now! Three months of being in the doldrums, his heart and mind wandering in the dark. 

It might seem to the rest of the team that he had moved on or forgotten. But no. Every night, he was falling asleep to Edith Piaf singing love songs. Every night, he was falling asleep imagining very hard that Lucien was wrapping his arms around him to keep him safe. Safe,  _ and loved. _ But every night, the vision of the taxi driving away haunted him. And every night, the nightmares shook his soul and punched him into waking up with cold sweat. 

_ \-- The Lodge, the restaurant -- _

Lucien came back from the barber's before Richard. He sat at the piano in the empty room. Perle jumped on the keyboard, then on the top of the piano and laid there as she now was used to. 

The Frenchman took a deep breath, relaxed his shoulders and started rehearsing. He wanted his first show to be as good as if he was presenting it to… Well, to  _ Mundy. _ He had repeated the songs again and again, thinking that he was singing for him, to him. There was no one else he could sing for. 

"Oh hey Lu-oh wow!"

Lucien stopped playing and looked at Richard. 

"You look so different now without the beard and with shorter hair!"

"Thank you, I guess it's a compliment?"

"It is yes, uh, sorry, Lucien, please meet John. John, this is Lu', our new singer and the reason was this restaurant will be the best in town!"

"For the short bit of song that I just heard, you sure have a terrific voice!"

Both John and Richard came on stage. Lucien and the artist shook hands. 

"I'll leave you guys to it, I need to go and see the chef in the kitchen, he must have arrived by now. John, as I said to you, we want these posters as soon as possible today!"

"Today?"

"Today?"

Both Lucien and John got surprised. 

"Yes, today! There's no reason to delay our first proper show!"

Seeing so much faith and enthusiasm in Richie's eyes made Lucien smile. 

"Right, Lucien, please continue rehearsing, I'll sit in the room and draw some ideas if that's ok with you?"

"Of course."

_ \-- Mundy's van, much later in that day -- _

"Hoo?"

"Huh?"

The owl broke Mundy's train of thought. He shifted gears and drove slower as he entered the city. He was used to parking his van quite deep into town and walking a bit to get to the shop. 

"Roight Hootsy. There we are. Oh I knew I should have started driving earlier, look, now the sun's settin' and it's gettin' dark..."

Mundy grumbled and put a hand on his face, letting it sink down. He didn't particularly enjoy driving at night, especially as he knew he would feel more lonely now. 

The Australian slammed his van's door as he exited it and started walking, Hootsy on his shoulder. People gave him looks, right and left. What a strange man. He surely wasn't a local. 

Mundy walked, or threw his legs in front of him, right and left, his hands in his pockets and his hat low on his face. His back was slightly hunched and he was staring at the ground, only hearing the sound of his heels on the pavement.

The sky was dark and the street lamps woke up, blinking with their orange lights, cutting the dark blue night. 

He stopped in front on the usual shop and got in, pushing the door with his shoulder. Mundy want straight for the counter. He looked at the cigarettes and his eyes located Lucien's brand. 

"The usual, Sir?"

Mundy raised his eyes under his hat.

"Yeah, one large pack of Royale Menthols, please."

"Right, give me a minute, I've got the large packs behind. I'll be right back."

Mundy nodded and waited, Hootsy still firmly perched on his shoulder. He looked through the shop's front people and watched people pass. Hootsy flapped his wings and landed on the counter. He walked on it, the sound of his claws on the surface catching Mundy's attention. 

"Hoo."

Mundy raised an eyebrow. Hootsy never used to make any noise unless he was alone with his master. 

"What are ya peckin' at?"

The bird was indeed playing with a pile of deep blue flyers for some nearby concert. 

"Stop it, Hoots."

"Hoo?"

"No, stop it, you're gonna tear the paper."

Mundy took his bird and put him on his shoulder when the shop owner came back. 

"Here it is, one large pack of Royale Menthols for the gentleman here."

Mundy nodded, paid and exited the shop. He walked back to his van with the pack of cigarette in a plastic bag in his hand. The night lights were shining in restaurants and nightclubs, or for less fortunate workers. The Australian paid only little attention to it all and walked decidedly to his camper van, between the leafless trees lined up along the pavement.

"Hoo-hoo!"

"What?"

"Hoo!"

Hootsy flapped his wings excitedly. Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"Alroight I'm stoppin' here."

The Australian indeed stopped his pace sharp. 

"You're gonna tell me here and now why you're hootin' that much! I can't even hear myself think!"

Hootsy flew to the nearest tree and started pecking at a paper stuck there. Mundy looked behind him and in front, at the other trees. All of them had that same poster stuck on it. 

"What the hell is your problem with that poster?" 

The Australian sighed and resumed his walking. Hootsy waited a bit and seeing that his master wasn't coming back for him, he flew to his shoulder. Mundy didn't think of it again until…

" _ Hoo-hoooo!" _

"Bloody hell, Hoots! My ears! What  _ is it?! _ "

People around him on the pavement turned and looked at him with question marks in their eyes. Who was that man who was talking to his… Well…  _ Pet owl? _

The Australian blushed, feeling all the eyes staring in his direction and pushed his hat lower on his head to hide himself. 

"HOO!"

Hootsy flew to the nearest restaurant and rushed in. 

"Oi! Hootsy! Come back here!"

Mundy ran after the bird and went inside. The name of the restaurant flashed and blinked in yellow neon lights but of course, the tall man didn't see it. It read:

_ "The Lodge." _

Mundy rushed in.

"Sir, can I help?"

A waiter came at Mundy directly. 

"Uh, well, yeah, nah, I'm just lookin' fer… uh.. I mean, look, uh, I-I'm-"

"You'd better take a seat now Sir, as you see, the room is quite full and the room is being filled quickly. Here, an empty table. Are you waiting for someone?"

"No but-"

"Perfect, then! I'll come back soon for your order, just give me a moment."

And before he could realise what had happened, the Australian was sitting at a table and a menu had landed in his hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The light went very low in the room as a bald man in a suit stood on stage and the clients scattered in the room welcomed him with a round of applause. Mundy wasn't paying attention at all. He tossed the menu aside and looked right and left to try and locate his bird. 

_ Once I find Hootsy, I get the hell out of here. _ Mundy thought.

"I am delighted to welcome you all and I'm glad that so many of you turned up for the occasion! As you have heard and seen on the posters around town, we are welcoming a new singer!"

People applauded loudly again. Mundy grumbled, still looking for his feathery companion.

"I will not introduce him too quickly, but just know that he comes straight from France-"

Mundy's ears pricked up. 

_ What? France? Why does everyone have to come from there now, bloody hell! _

He bit his lip and straightened his back, still looking around him to see where Hootsy could have gone.

"-and here is is for the opening of this new era for the Lodge! Please give him a warm round of applause!"

And people nicely obliged. A man came on stage and started playing the piano. Mundy still didn't care. He was looking under the table but the lights were so very low in the restaurant that he couldn't see a thing. 

The man on stage started singing. 

_ {To the reader: this song is greatly inspired by Juliette Armanet's song called "Alexandre", feel free to listen to it at the same time!} _

_ "Toi mon Mundy, _

_ [You, my Mundy,] _

_ Je donnerais toute ma vie, _

_ [I would give all my life]." _

Mundy froze, his head still under the table. Did he really hear it right or…?

_ "Toi mon Mundy, _

_ [You, my Mundy] _

_ Tu es mon Australie. _

_ [You are my Australia] _

_ Tes mots tendres _

_ [Your soft words] _

_ Nagent dans mon esprit. _

_ [Swim in my mind]" _

Mundy slowly emerged from underneath the table. 

"Bloody…"

Mundy's eyes scanned the singer from the bottom up as he emerged from under the table. The man on the stage was wearing Burgundy shoes, white trousers and a white suit jacket. His vest was white too, but his shirt was Burgundy. He was playing the piano while wearing black gloves on his hands.

_ "T'es mon blasphème, ma plus belle insomnie. _

_ [You're my blasphemy, my most beautiful reason for insomnia.] _

_ Et te dire 'Je t'aime', je sais, m'est impossible. _

_ [And to tell you 'I love you', I know, is impossible to me]" _

The singer was wearing a white bowtie. He wasn't facing the room, the piano was put in such a way that the people saw him from his profile. On the black and shining piano, a fluffy white cat was lying, lazily brushing the air with its equally fluffy tail.

_ "Toi mon Mundy, _

_ [You, my Mundy] _

_ À tout à toi je dis oui. _

_ [To everything that you want, I say yes] _

_ Quitte à tout prendre, _

_ [Even if I were to lose everything] _

_ J'préfére l'enfer au paradis. _

_ [I prefer hell over heaven]" _

The Frenchman was singing with his eyes screwed shut, frowning, his lips close to the microphone, the slight vibrato in his voice hiding the knot that was squeezing his throat tightly. His hair was salt and pepper with lighter temples and a white front tuft that was elegantly falling on his face, like a straw of reed bending over a pond. 

Mundy squinted to see a detail a bit better, on the singer's head. 

_ Blimey… It-it… He... _

The singer had yellow tinted glasses up in his hair. Mundy opened eyes the size of a planet. Without looking, the singer shifted his hands to the right on the keyboard and played pianissimo. He sang less loudly too.

" _ Toi mon Mundy, _

_ [You, my Mundy] _

_ T'es mieux même que le paradis, _

_ [You're better than heaven itself] _

_ Parce que Mundy… _

_ [Because Mundy]" _

The Frenchman opened his very light blue eyes and turned his head to smile at the audience. It was one of those sad smiles, heartbroken and heartbreaking. He then whispered in the microphone. 

_ "Mundy, c'est si joli." _

_ [Mundy, that's such a beautiful name.] _

Lucien finished with a couple chords on the piano while people applauded loudly. Mundy's jaw was on the floor. His legs were wobbling and tears had beaded in his eyes. He thought he was going mad. Surely he was dreaming, there couldn't be any way that…! 

Mundy took a deep breath as the crowd applauded the singer. Nah, there's no way this is Lucien. He's in Paris. The man was in  _ bloody _ Paris. He was the best spy in France, yes, but surely he couldn't be at two different places at once!

The singer stood up and took the microphone in his hand. He bowed to the crowd as he said:

"Merci, thank you very much,  _ mesdames et messieurs _ , ladies and gentlemen…"

The applause slowly stopped. 

"My name is Lu'."

Mundy smacked a hand in front of his mouth.

"Other might have known me through the years as  _ Le Grand Lulu _ or even  _ Lucien Le Bel. _ But now my name is Lu'. And do you know why?"

He waited for a second before answering himself. He put a hand on his chest as he said:

"Because that is the name that the reason my heart beats for has given me."

The crowd went in a collective  _ "Aww"  _ and the Australian couldn't take it anymore. Mundy broke into tears on his seat. He removed his hat and covered his eyes with his hand. 

"Now, I would like to dedicate this show here to that person."

People applauded and Lucien raised his eyes as if Mundy could see him from the sky itself. 

_ "Mundy, mon amour. C'est pour toi que je chante aujourd'hui." _

_ [Mundy, my love. I will be singing for you tonight.] _

Again, Lucien had that special thing in his voice that made people listen to him. And they went in a loud and sad  _ "Awww" _ again. Richard jumped on stage and joined the singer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, what Lu' is hiding from you all is that he has sung in the most prestigious restaurant in Paris, no less! You have in front of you tonight the one and only man who sang for presidents and kings!"

Lucien bowed as the impressed crowd dreamt of how many important leaders, how many men that would be in history books in a few years had shaken hands with that elegant man.

"And I will leave the stage for Lu' again, ladies and gentlemen,  _ the Great Lu'!" _

People applauded while Richard exited the stage, leaving the floor to Lucien. The Frenchman sat at the piano again and after taking a deep breath, his fingers started moving on the keyboard. He put his lips closer to the microphone as he whispered. 

_ "Mundy, mon amour, si seulement tu pouvais m'écouter, je te dirais que je ne t'ai pas oublié, je t'aime, Mundy, je t'aime." _

_ [Mundy, my love, if only you could hear me, I would tell you that I haven't forgotten you, I love you, Mundy, I love you.] _

The Frenchman screwed his eyes shut and started singing.

_ {To the reader, this one is "L'Accident" by Juliette Armanet!} _

_ "Accident sur la route, _

_ [Accident on the road] _

_ À mille kilomètre-heure _

_ [At a thousand kilometres an hour] _

_ J'ai explosé mon coeur _

_ [My heart exploded] _

_ Contre toi. _

_ [Against you.]" _

Mundy understood the lyrics and tears were streaming down his face on their own. He had no idea Lucien could sing a song with that much distress that beautifully. His tone, his gestures, his face contorting with the pain of the words that he was singing and the way his fingers waved on the keyboard, everything made sense. The room was dead quiet or Mundy couldn't hear whatever other noises surrounded him.

_ "Accident en Jaguar _

_ [Accident in a Jaguar] _

_ J'croyais bien que j'broyais du noir _

_ [I thought I was in the doldrums] _

_ Je me la jouais bande à part _

_ [I was playing it solo] _

_ Superstar _

_ [Like a superstar]" _

Perle raised her head and jumped down, off the piano. She trotted off the stage but Lucien hadn't noticed. He had fallen deep in the meaning of the words he was trying to sing to Mundy. As if he was there in the room, as if his deep blue eyes were riveted on him.  _ Oh if only… _

_ "T'as apparu d'un coup  _

_ [You appeared out of the blue] _

_ Comme la vie en personne _

_ [Like life itself] _

_ J'attendais plus personne _

_ [I wasn't waiting for anyone anymore] _

_ Non, non _

_ [No, no] _

_ Accident peu banal _

_ [Ordinary accident] _

_ J'rêvais d'aller au bal en cavale _

_ [I dreamt of going to the ball with you, on the run] _

_ J'ai disparu c'est tout, _

_ [I disappeared, that's all] _

_ Comme la mort en personne _

_ [Like death itself]" _

Perle jumped on Mundy's lap and stood on her back legs. The Australian hugged her and her fur absorbed the tears while he held her close and lost his fingers in her fluffiness.

_ "Accident éternel! _

_ [Eternal accident] _

_ Je serais plus jamais beau, _

_ [I will never be handsome anymore] _

_ J'aurai plus jamais d'ailes à briser _

_ [I will never have wings anymore, nothing will break them] _

_ Appelle pas les urgences _

_ [Don't call the emergency services,] _

_ J'prendrai pas l'ambulance _

_ [I won't take the ambulance.] _

_ Laisse-moi juste l'élégance... _

_ [Just leave me the elegance...]" _

Lucien opened his eyes and was about to conclude his song when his jaw dropped. 

"Hoo?"

Hootsy had landed on the piano in front of the him and the Frenchman's eyes went the size of a planet. He whispered, his breath reducing to a thin thread of air:

_ "De t'aimer." _

_ [To love you.] _

He stood up, off the piano seat, and looked in the room, right and left, scanning the crowd. He snatched the microphone off his stand and with a shaking hand, he got it closer to his mouth. His tears flowed down his face effortlessly. He gulped hard before he could be able to utter a sound. The people in the restaurant went dead quiet. Nobody really understood if it was part of the show or not but at this point, the entire universe had disappeared before the Frenchman's eyes.

"M-Mundy? C'est toi?"

[M-Mundy? It's you?]

_ Oh my God, it really is him…  _ Thought the Australian.

"Mundy?"

Mundy raised his head. He couldn't speak, his heart and breath had stopped long ago. He released Perle who slipped away. The Australian then stood up slowly, his legs still feeling very weak.

"Hoo!"

The owl flew and Richard gestured that the spotlight followed it. The bird flew across the room and landed on his master's shoulder. The poor Australian was smiling, his tears still streaming down his face.

As soon as the spotlight illuminated Mundy, Lucien dropped his microphone. It hit the floor with a high-pitch screech but the Frenchman couldn't care less. He leapt from the stage in his lover's direction, he ran through the room, shooting past the clients, until he crashed in Mundy's arms. The two lovers clung to each other. It only took Old Tom's applause for the entire room to follow and mark the event in a thunder of applause rumbling around them. The people around, the clients, the staff, the whole room stood up in unison and celebrated the reunion of the couple while they cried, their hands grasping, almost clawing into the other's body to make sure it wasn't a dream.

Richard jumped on stage and invited people to enjoy the food from the new menu, with a new wine selection that was also recommended by the Frenchman. And the lights turned back on in the room, people got busy with their plates, the sound of the chats and forks on porcelain rising in the air.

"C'est vraiment toi?"

[It's really you?]

"Y-yeah it is and-and you?"

"Oui but how did you know I would be here?" Lucien slid his gloved hands on Mundy's cheeks. "How did you find me? How did you- Oh mon Dieu, it all seems so irrelevant now!"

Mundy was smiling, his eyes big, red and slightly swollen.

"See Lucien, told you you should work 'ere!"

Old Tom put a hand on Lucien's shoulder. 

"Oh, Tom! Thank you so much for this opportunity! Oh, where are my manners…? Mundy, please meet Old Tom, it's thanks to him that my career as a singer starts again. Tom, please meet Mundy, he's my…"

"I can bloody well see what he is. He's your man, innit?"

"That, and everything else."

Mundy extended his hand and Tom shook it enthusiastically.

"I'll leave you two to it. My throat's dry and Richie owes me a pint!"

"Make it two, I owe you one too, Tom!" Added Lucien. 

"Right, right, Richie!"

And the old man went off to the counter. Lucien and Mundy sat at the Australian's table. 

"Look at you…"

Lucien took off his gloves and put them in the plate in front of him. He took Mundy's hand in his and gripped it firmly.

"... You look amazing, mon amour. Y-you… Oh, pardon, I should probably have a glass of water first…"

He poured water from the jug on the table into two glasses. Both drank a bit and caught their breaths.

"How did you find me?"

"I-I didn't! It's Hootsy! I came in town to… Uh… Well, to buy these…"

Mundy put the plastic bag in front of Lucien. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. 

"Have a look."

Lucien obeyed and put his hand in the bag, he took a box out. 

"Royale Menthols… Those are my cigarettes, wait, you came in town to buy me cigarettes? I'm confused, how would you send them to me? You didn't have my address."

"Nah, I-uh… Well…"

Mundy lowered his head and put his hand behind his neck. Lucien put his index below his lover's chin and pushed it up. The Australian was blushing. 

"You know you can tell me everything, non?"

Mundy smiled. 

"Y-yeah, I know. I uh… I was buying those cigarettes fer myself."

"Yourself?"

"Yeah… I smoke them all the time now I… I-I can't stop smoking them, they make me think of you."

Lucien smiled and brushed Mundy's cheek with his thumb.

"Well, I take Perle everywhere with me, because that's what you do with Hootsy."

"I listen to Edith Piaf every night to fall asleep, because it feels like you're here."

"I stopped shaving and cutting my hair, because I had no one to please."

"I keep your mask and the note you left on the record-player under my pillow to keep me safe at night."

"I drink my coffee black without sugar, because that's how you drink it."

Mundy smiled. 

"But you hate bitter coffee."

"Oui, but I hate being without you more than just bitter coffee. Bitter coffee stings my tongue, being without you stings my heart. Also, I must give you these back."

The Frenchman removed the yellow tinted glasses from his head and put them back on his lover's nose. 

"I imagine you have felt quite naked without them."

"How d'you know?"

"Mundy, I  _ know you. _ "

The Australian blushed again. 

"Mundy?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I presume your van is somewhere near?"

"Yeah." 

"Shall we? We'll be more at ease."

"Oh, yeah, sure." 

Both men stood up.

"Let me just thank Tom and Richard again, and I'll be with you. Perle?  _ Reste avec Papa Mundy, tu veux bien?" _

[Stay with Daddy Mundy, alright?]

Mundy froze. He doubted that he heard it right. The Frenchman who had taken the first step towards the bar stopped and turned to face his lover. 

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

Mundy was on another planet. He felt everything again, the butterflies in his stomach, his heart waking up, pumping life back in his entire body. Life was in colour, the restaurant smelled of nice food and wine and people around him were all wearing a smile. 

The Australian headed for the front door and waited, just outside of it. Hootsy was firmly perched on his shoulder and Perle at his side. 

"On y va?"

[Shall we?] 

Lucien had come and took Mundy's arm in his, squeezing it gently. 

"Y-yeah, let's go."

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading this!! 

Finally they're re-united! At  _ fucking _ last! 

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know in the comments!

Mega thanks to people who post comments, you have no idea how big the happy boost is when I read your reactions, it keeps me going! :)

Stay tuned for 45! 


	45. Chapter 45

"You parked your van quite far."

"I like to walk a bit…"

Both men arrived at the parking lot. The van was under a street light, illuminated by the orange sodium vapor lamp. Mundy went to the front door when Hootsy flew straight to the windshield and pecked at it. 

"What's wrong with you again? Oh, it's cause of that ad stuck there, let me see… You've been peckin' at it everywhere we've found it…"

Mundy took the piece of paper off the windshield and crumpled it in his hand. 

"See, Mundy, I'm really happy you have Hootsy."

"What?"

The Australian didn't understand why his lover was mentioning his companion. 

"The piece of paper you are crushing in your hand."

"What about it?"

Lucien put his hands in his pockets elegantly, the panes of his jacket opening. He looked like an angel to Mundy's eyes. 

"Have a look at it."

The Australian opened his hand and tried to flatten out the paper as best as he could.

"Crickey… It's you! That's why Hoots has been hootin' so much! Good boy! You recognised Lu' on there!"

Mundy took his pet owl in his hands and kissed his head repeatedly. 

"Mate, I'm sorry for shoutin' at ya, I should have listened!"

"Hoo!"

Lucien smiled and rolled his eyes. Mundy put his companion on his shoulder and opened the front door.

"Hoots, you stay at the front. I need to talk to Lu' seriously."

"Perle, tu as entendu? C'est valable pour toi aussi."

[Perle, you've heard Mundy, it also applies to you.]

Both the cat and the owl went on the driver's seat and Mundy closed the door. He then went around the back of the van and opened the door. He leapt in and turned to extend his hand to Lucien. The Frenchman stared at the hand, then his eyes went to his lover. He smiled and took his hand. Mundy pulled him in and shut the door after him. 

Lucien was glad to find that Mundy had missed his lover so much that he was devouring him with his eyes. The van's lights were off but the street lamps through the ceiling window were enough for both men to see each other. 

The Australian wanted to wrap his arms around the Frenchman and hold him dearly in his arms but could he do that? Were they lovers again? Had they stopped to be so? His hands hovered around Lucien's waist. 

"Mundy?"

"Y-yeah?"

" _ You can hold me if you want. Don't be so shy." _

That sentence, Mundy had heard it multiple times before. The first time that he had kissed the Frenchman, in his suite, was the first time he had heard it. But there were other occasions that just now, he couldn't think of. Nah. His mind was busy with the man in the snow white suit before his eyes. 

Mundy bit his lip. 

"I… Huh… I mean…"

Lucien smiled. 

"If I had any doubts, I now know for sure that it's you, mon amour."

The Frenchman put his hands on top of his lover's and pushed them so that Mundy's hands were in contact with Lucien's hips.

"You wanted to talk to me seriously, you said?"

"Huh, yeah. Yeah but it can wait. I… it's…"

The Australian hesitated. 

"C-can I ask somethin'?"

"But of course."

"Can I uh… I mean…"

Mundy's eyes were riveted on his lover's lips, making his eyes cross slightly. The Frenchman understood. 

"Oui, you may."

Mundy bent down and put his forehead against Lucien's. The Frenchman cupped his lover's head with his hands and the Australian took a deep breath. 

"You still use the vanilla hand cream, eh?"

"And you still have an excellent sense of smell."

Mundy smiled and put his nose against the Frenchman's as he whispered in his low gravelly voice.

"I've missed you so, bloody, much."

"So did I. It was hell to go through the days without you."

"I've felt dead all along."

"So did I, mon amour."

Lucien let his nose run slightly on Mundy's cheek and the Australian sighed. 

"My… God… How much I've missed you…"

Lucien felt Mundy's hand clench on his hips.

"Can I be brutally honest with you, Mundy?"

"Y-yeah."

The Australian's eyes snapped open. 

"I didn't think you would miss me that much."

"What?! You bloody jokin'?! If someone could forget, it's you!"

"Quoi?!"

[What?!]

" _ You _ 're the one who's had more lovers than Hootsy has feathers on his wings!"

"Mon amour! I could hardly sleep at night, I was drowning in my tears thinking about you!"

The tone escalated on both parts.

"Oh well at least you didn't have nightmares every bloody night, seein' the taxi you were in drive away!"

"I turned my back and cried as he was driving away,  _ imbécile _ !"

"Yeah well my legs gave up and I fell on my knees in the snow, you bloody piker!"

"And you're missing the obvious,  _ crétin!" _

"WHAT?!"

"I AM NOT IN PARIS!"

Silence fell for a second.

"Roight… I guess so, yeah… Why aren't you in Paris?"

"Can't you guess?"

"Is it Pearl who told you to stay?"

"Non, for once Perle has nothing to do with this. I'm the one who's entirely responsible."

"So what happened?"

"May I?"

Lucien pointed at the couch and Mundy nodded. Both of them sat on the Australian's old and worn out sofa.

"I arrived in front on the airport. The taxi driver dropped me there with my luggage and I stayed on the pavement for a while. I saw busy families rushing to catch their flights, business men in their suits, groups of tourists trying to go back home or fly to other horizons in general. I saw all that and I heard them, the planes. It was deafening. Their incessant take off and landing. Oh, it all filled my head. But…"

Lucien moved closer to Mundy and leant his head on the Australian's shoulder, naturally, as he had always done. Mundy felt his heart burst in his chest and could not hold back a wide, satisfied smile.

"I couldn't go, Mundy. It was, and it still very much is, absolutely impossible."

"But why?"

"I'm sure you know why. But you really want me to say it out loud, hm?"

Both chuckled.

"Parce que je t'aime, tout simplement."

[Because I love you, quite simply.]

Mundy wrapped an arm around his lover and rested his head on Lucien's. 

"I've missed yer head on my shoulder."

"And I missed your shoulder. It's quite a comfortable pillow, I must admit."

"Oh is that what I am now, eh? A pillow?"

"Oui, but a comfortable and heated one. Quite marvellous! What will they think of next?"

Mundy gently shoved his lover. 

"Oi! I'm not just a pillow!"

"Non, that's true, I was just joking. You're much more than that, obviously."

Mundy raised an eyebrow. He was in a playful mood. 

"What am I then?"

Lucien smirked. He loved those verbal jousts and he was devilishly good at them. 

"Oh, but you are everything mon amour. The reason for my clinging to life, if only that means that my lips can cling to yours."

"Oh wow…"

The Australian was genuinely impressed.

"Well, don't ask questions if you're not ready for their answers, mon amour."

"I… I'd forgotten you could, y'know… You were  _ that good _ with words…"

Lucien smirked and raised his head. Mundy looked down. 

"Might I remind you I'm not only good with words?"

"Pfff, stop it! You're literally good at everythin' you do! It's insane!"

"Non, that's not true…"

Lucien raised his hand and brushed Mundy's cheek, higher and higher, slowly losing his fingers in the Australian's sideburns. 

"... I'm only good at things when I think of you."

Mundy wanted to kiss his lover's head, his lips got closer to doing it, but then he withdrew. It was maybe too soon, too weird?

Lucien rose from the sofa. 

"Somethin's wrong?"

"Well, it is quite warm in your van, don't you think?"

The Frenchman removed his jacket and threw it on the counter behind him. Mundy expected him to come back and sit next to himself but instead, the Frenchman sat on his lover's lap, straddling his thighs. He then wrapped his arms around Mundy's neck and leaned in until their noses touched. Lucien then whispered. 

"There is one thing I love about you Mundy..."

The Australian was holding his breath. His heart was pounding hard.

"... even in the dark I can see your pupils growing wide."

"Uh-"

Mundy wanted to answer, but no words came out. The Frenchman leaned further to put his lips next to his lover's ear to murmur:

"I haven't felt what I'm feeling now since I left you… It's wonderful…"

He paused before asking, still whispering:

"Do you feel the same way too?"

The Australian, incapable of speech, simply nodded slowly and the Frenchman smiled. His eyebrows jumped when Mundy, breaking the silence in the dark van, said:

"You have no idea how much I'm holdin' meself back…"

Lucien straightened his back, one eyebrow raised like a question mark. 

"Holding back from doing what?"

Mundy bit his lip and Lucien saw it. The same flash he saw that other night, the pearly white pointy canine, and the amount of lust in his lover's eyes. It made him lose any sense of reality but at the same time, he wanted to test Mundy's patience and self-control, just to see…! He removed his arms from around his lover's neck and undid his bowtie. Mundy put his hands on his lover's thighs and brushed them slowly. The Frenchman put the satin Burgundy cloth between his teeth while he undid the buttons of his shirt and Mundy gulped hard. His throat had gone dry in an instant. Once the shirt was open, Lucien took one of Mundy hands and stuck it on his own chest, taking a deep breath and making sure to smile viciously while the bowtie was still wedged between his teeth. The Australian lost his breath and his jaw dropped slightly. 

The Frenchman then opened his arms wide. 

"I am all yours."

Mundy opened wide, eager eyes. Lucien went to his ear again. 

"Let's get to your bed, shall we?"

The Frenchman rose to his feet and threw his shoes away before elegantly climbing the ladder to his lover's bed. Mundy removed his shoes, his hat and his glasses and joined his lover. He towered him. 

"I want you so much, it's… It's like I'm…"

"Say it."

"... _ hungry and thirsty at the same time." _

Lucien smiled and removed his shirt, throwing it away elegantly. He then lied down, opening his arms as if he was offering his being.

"Bon appétit."

[Enjoy your meal.] 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped up. Something was still holding him back. He stared at the expanse of naked flesh before him and the only thing he could see was the skin that he had been craving for, for months! 

"Something's the matter?"

"Y-yeah actually."

"What is it?"

"I haven't said it yet. You have, countless times, but I haven't."

"What?"

"I love you."

Lucien's face softened. He had forgotten how sweet Mundy could be. He remembered how he held his hand when he needed it the most, on their first night together.

"I love you too, mon amour, I love you madly."

Mundy smiled and bent down. His nose touched his lover's, their foreheads only an inch apart. Their eyes darted left and right. They knew it was the right moment but they wanted it to be memorable. They both wanted to be able to recall this precise moment and all the emotions it would entail as clearly as possible.

Lucien closed his eyes. He felt Mundy's fingers trace the shape of his face, his eyebrows, then down under his eyes, on his slightly protruding cheekbones, his slim cheeks and then his lips. He let his thumb run on Lucien's thin upper lip and then then the lower one. The Frenchman opened his eyes, his lips parting slightly. Mundy was staring at his lover's face intensely, his thumb brushing Lucien's lips repeatedly until…

_ "I… I want you so much…" _

Mundy saw the corner of Lucien's lips purse in a half smile. The Frenchman then playfully bit his lover's thumb. The Australian gulped down hard. And Lucien let the silence hang and weigh on Mundy. The aim of the game to play with the Australian's nerves and see when he would yield. The Frenchman released his lover's thumb and Mundy lied on his lover, hugging him dearly, sliding his arms between the mattress and his back. Lucien wrapped his arms around Mundy's neck and laced his legs behind his back. 

There was another trick he could play to make the Australian lose his mind. Mundy had buried his head in Lucien's neck and was nuzzling in there, taking in his expensive perfume. 

" _ Mundy?" _

The Frenchman whispered and the Australian froze, his ears pricking up. Lucien slid his fingers in Mundy's hair.

_ "Je t'aime comme je n'ai jamais aimé personne. Je te veux près de moi, je te veux dans ma vie, je te veux dans mes bras, pour toujours." _

_ [I love you unlike anyone before. I want you close to me, I want you to in my life, I want you in my arms, forever.] _

Mundy released a long sigh. His whole body was against Lucien but he wanted more. 

_ "Mundy, je… Je veux faire l'amour avec toi comme un fou." _

_ [Mundy, I… I want to make love with you like a madman.] _

Something clicked in Mundy's head when he heard the words  _ "make love" _ and he lost the bet he had with himself. He moaned. 

_ "Je suis tout à toi et je ne demande que la chaleur de ton corps, tes lèvres, et le reste aussi." _

_ [I am all yours and I only ask for the warmth of your body, your lips, and the rest of your body.] _

Mundy's hips jolted involuntarily against his lover's. He had lost. Lucien was too good at this game and once again, the Frenchman had won. 

" _ I want you, I want you, I want you…" _

Mundy sat up in a flash and stripped his jumper and his polo shirt in the blink of an eye, he was breathing heavily, he needed some air! Lucien was smirking devilishly. He was proud to have won, he knew he was going to, it was all but of question of time of course.

Mundy's trousers flew out of the way and he then dived directly to Lucien's lips. He took his upper lips in his own and stayed there for a moment, pressing them hard against the Frenchman's who was cupping his face with his hands. 

When Mundy withdrew, he put his forehead against Lucien's and screwed his eyes shut, frowning intensely. 

"I had missed you so much…"

"So did I, mon amour."

But Lucien wanted more and he knew Mundy was holding himself back. The Frenchman stuck his tongue out and quickly lapped at his lover's lip, just a quick lick, to tease him. Mundy's eyebrows jumped up, his eyes still shut. Lucien did it again but this time more slowly, making sure to paint his lover's upper lip entirely. 

"Mmh…"

The Australian moaned and Lucien smiled. He then lapped at Mundy's upper lip, trying to curl it towards himself, as if he could pull it down to himself. It worked, Mundy put his lips on his lover and the Frenchman did what he knew he did like no one else:

_ He added the French to the kiss. _

The Australian became a moaning mess. He felt like every minute that passed made him lose his battle to cling to reality. Lucien's tongue made him turn and tumble, round and round,  _ like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel.  _ Mundy slid a hand under Lucien's head, feeling his lover's cinder hair flow between his fingers, like the smoke of his cigarettes.

"Mundy… Je t'-ah…"

[Mundy… I l-ah…]

The Australian had left his lover's mouth and was kissing his neck. He knew the Frenchman loved it and it worked, Lucien arched his back up, revealing more of his thin neck. The Australian closed his fist on his lover's hair.

"Aaah… M-mon amour…!"

[Aaah… M-my love…!]

Not only had he arched his back, Lucien had also planted his nails in his lover's sides and raised his hips, asking for more. The Australian obliged and let his body drop on Lucien's, slowly, until his entire weight was on the Frenchman. 

Both moaned as the proximity of their bodies added fuel to the fire of their desire. Mundy sat on his lover's thighs and let his hands run on the Frenchman's chest. He bent down to kiss him again and Lucien closed his eyes, rolling them up in pleasure. The Australian's hands slid, slightly scratched and explored. Everything was where he had left it. The chest hair, no trail on the stomach, the scars, the bruises. Nothing had changed. Mundy slid his hands further down. Lucien's trousers were in the way. He put his hands on his belt and looked up, as if to ask permission, with his eyebrows perched up, and his big blue eyes. The Frenchman extended his finger towards his lover and gestured him to get closer. Mundy obeyed and Lucien pulled him so that his lips were next to his ear. 

"I love you, Mundy. And please, please, proceed to your leisure. When I say I'm all yours, I mean it."

"B-but I don't know, you might not like it, you-I… I might be forcing you?"

"Non. Never. Everything you do I absolutely love and adore."

"You sure?"

"Undo my belt."

"Whot?"

"Please mon amour, undo my belt."

Mundy obliged and indeed Lucien was in the same state that he was in. 

"Oh…"

"See, I am enjoying this as much as you are. Now, move aside, I need to throw these trousers away."

Mundy obeyed and his lover not only got rid of his trousers but his boxer shorts too. The Australian couldn't help but stare. 

"Mundy?"

He still stared.

"Mon amour?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring."

"Oh sorry, I-I, uh, I didn't mean to uh…"

The Australian, who was on his knees, lowered his head. Lucien came closer and put a finger under his chin, pulling it up. 

" _ I didn't ask you to stop." _

The Australian's ears got hot and his heart skipped a beat. Lucien took advantage of the situation and pushed his lover to lie on the bed, on his back. He removed Mundy's underwear and smiled. Mundy raised his head off the pillow to look down and saw his lover with black eyes, riveted on his desire. 

Lucien then moved up and lied on Mundy, locking his lips with the Australian. 

"Mmmh… Lu'..."

"Oui?"

"Y'know I haven't felt anything there for months… I couldn't… I couldn't, y'know,  _ do my business on my own _ . I felt nothing."

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Neither could I."

"Yeah b-but then you show up and everything wakes up and-!"

The Frenchman put his index on his lover's lips. 

"Ssshh… Stop worrying. You're with me now, there's no reason to worry, especially not about things that belong to the past. Mundy if you taught me anything, it is that we need to focus more on what  _ is _ , not what  _ was _ or what  _ will be _ . And do you know what is happening now?"

Mundy shook his head slightly, Lucien's finger still on his lips. 

"Now,  _ I want you." _

The Frenchman dived in his lover's arms, his mouth aiming for his lover's neck. He kissed, lapped and licked, pulling moans and and deep sighs out of his lover. Mundy was sweating, it was so all so violent, so pure, so… _ raw _ . He wanted more. But could he ask?  _ Should he ask? _ He didn't have time to think it through and raised his hips against Lucien's. Nothing stood between them, no distance, no cloth. Lucien got surprised by it and jerked his head up to hiss in pleasure and try to get more air before diving again and meeting his lover's wordless demand. He slowly moved his hips up and down against his lover's, driving Mundy out of his mind. 

They were in a pool of sweat and heat but neither of them cared. Their hands explored, touched, grabbed and clawed. 

"L-Lu… I-... Aah… What you're doin' it's…"

Mundy bit his lip and moaned louder, exhaling in a loud and rough breath. He pulled Lucien to himself. They were now chest against chest, their hair was in a mess and both were breathing loudly. 

Lucien let his hand rediscover Mundy's body, his chest, his stomach and… 

"May I?"

He asked politely. 

"Y-yeah, p-please I really want it…"

The Frenchman slowly wrapped his fingers around Mundy's needy extremity and caressed it, up and down, while he kissed his lover passionately. He broke the kiss and said. 

"You're sweating a lot mon amour…"

"So are ya… And-mmh… And well, uh, it, uh… It's  _ not _ sweat down there…"

Lucien smiled proudly.

"I know, I know…"

The Frenchman went down and settled between his lover's legs, his hand still teasing Mundy. He got his head closer and stuck his tongue out. He spread it wide at the base and lapped at  _ it _ upwards, slowly. 

"Oooooh…!"

Mundy grabbed the bedsheets left and right. He screwed his eyes shut and focused on what was happening down there. 

The Frenchman was enjoying this as much as his lover. Obviously he knew his way and he knew what to do and where to do it, but Mundy's loud breaths and moans didn't go lost on his ear… Each time he heard him, he would feel a bolt of electricity seize him and a rush of blood to his most sensitive parts. 

Pleasure pulsed in a regular buzzes like waves crashing against the shore. And it was the case for both of them. Lucien realised that before Mundy, it never had happened. When he was the one giving, he would never feel it in his own body, not as strongly as now and it was taking him a lot of effort to control himself and not yield to the temptation of putting a hand down and satisfying himself. But non, that wouldn't make any sense. It wasn't about  _ him _ , it was about  _ them _ . And  _ they _ made sense.  _ They _ both were feeling it which gave the whole experience a lot more sense than when it's just  _ Mister good-looking spy Lucien _ on yet another adventure. Non, the sexy nights with Mundy  _ made sense _ . They were not just a tension relief, they were also, as obvious as it might seem,  _ a proof of love. _

One can love in so many ways! Friendly love, family love, romantic love… But when it comes to the adventures under the sheets, it's even more diverse. Any emotion can go in the bed. Anger, sadness, fatigue, lust, anything! But only with Mundy had Lucien felt that it was none of the above. It was something else. It was about making a bond, a connection, both extremely thin and sturdy. Thin because it lasted only a few hours but sturdy in its ability to strengthen their relationship. Each kiss they exchanged, each night they spent together carved a bit deeper in stone the strength of the feelings they had for each other, the same feelings that made Mundy keep anything that belonged to Lucien as if it were some treasure, the same that made Lucien cry most nights even though he was trained to not feel anything. 

"Mmmh… Lu', d-d'you mind?"

Lucien raised his head.

"What?"

"C'mere."

The Frenchman obeyed and was welcomed by Mundy's lips. But the Australian was actually guiding his lover to lie down, on his back and oh… He just wanted to reciprocate…! But oh Lord, was he impatient! With his eyes locked on his lover's, he took his begging masculinity in, and Lucien let a cry out. What an honest sound…! Mundy loved hearing Lucien like that! The Frenchman jerked his head back and gritted his teeth, hissing in pleasure. He put a hand on Mundy's head while the Australian was playing with the strings of his lover's heart. _ Well, not his heart exactly, but anyway… _

Mundy put a lot of effort in following his lover's auditory clues until he managed to pull a loud cry and Lucien's hips jerked up. 

"Oh, Mundy… Careful, it's sensitive there…"

The Australian licked that spot again and it didn't fail. The Frenchman's ribcage jumped. He then resorted to tease his lover with that. Lucien raised his head to look down at what was happening and the sight of Mundy sticking out his tongue to pleasure him, a confident, almost arrogant smirk on his lips was too much for the Frenchman. He grasped the bedsheets. 

"P-please Mundy… Be gentle with th-aaah! It's-nnnnnh! Mundy! Mundy, please!"

As it turned out, Mundy discovered a new feeling. It was very much a positive one. He shall call it the  _ love-it-when-Lu-begs-me _ feeling.

"Aargh-nnnh!"

Lucien's legs were rigid and his toes were curling up in sheer pleasure. He jerked his head back, letting it crash on the mattress again. The moans were now loud and clear and if anyone had passed on the parking lot, they could hear them. But neither of them cared. They weren't on that stupid parking lot. Lucien was, as they say in French,  _ on the seventh sky _ of pleasure and Mundy was the one who had lifted him all the way up there.

"I love you…"

Mundy licked again.

"Aargh!"

"And I want to be with you, always."

Again, Mundy tongue flicked and Lucien's body went in a tremor. 

The Australian stopped there and went back up, to his lover's ear. The poor Frenchman was exhausted, his eyes were closed and he was focusing on catching his breath. But Mundy looked down and yes, both were still very much in the mood for more. 

"Lu'?"

He whispered. The Frenchman heard him but couldn't react. He felt like any movement now would made him… well…  _ end the night… _

"I love it when you… y'know… uh… breathe loud and stuff…"

Mundy brushed Lucien's hair out of the Frenchman's face and realised that he was smiling while panting for air. 

"But uh… I don't know if I can ask that sort of things or how people do it… But uh…"

Lucien's eyebrows frowned slightly. He thought that Mundy would ask him to tone the moaning down a bit. It's true that he had let himself go as if they were the only ones in the world…! 

Mundy got his lips closer to the Frenchman's ear and whispered his demand. Lucien's eyes snapped open, his pupils shrinking to a dot and gasping silently. 

"Are you sure you want that?"

Lucien turned his head to look Mundy in the eye. The Australian nodded. 

"I-I… Well, I really want it and I feel like I can only do it with you cause… Cause I trust you, I know you won't hurt me or anything like that roight?"

Lucien put a hand on Mundy's cheek and smile. 

"I would rather hurt myself than hurt you mon amour. But have you thought about this really?"

Again, the Australian nodded. 

"I-I've never done it before though, so I don't know how it works… I-I, uh…"

Mundy closed his eyes. 

"I'm sorry…"

"What? Why are you sorry? Look at me, Mundy, open your eyes and tell me."

The Australian obeyed but looked so distraught that it was hard for Lucien to not look sad himself. 

"You'd think that at my age… I'd know a bit about these things… But, truth is I know nothin'. And-and… I'm sorry I'm such a bad… uh… I'm such a bad person to love… You have to tell me everything, teach me everythin',  _ again _ … I feel miserable. I feel like-"

Mundy cut his own sentence short. The Frenchman was staring at him intensely. He slowly flapped his eyelids and smiled tenderly. 

"Tell me, mon amour."

"I feel like you're doin' all the work and I'm just there, waitin' for things to happen…"

Lucien smiled and Mundy raised a surprised eyebrow. 

"You definitely are improving on your spy skills, mon amour."

"What?"

"You lied very credibly there."

"What?!"

"The mere fact that you ask me to…  _ Take things to quite a higher level _ prove that you are far from passive here."

"But it's still you who have to do the work… I'm asking you to do it because I'm…"

"You're?"

"I'm… I don't know what to expect b-but people say it's uh… Oh I can't say it…"

Lucien smiled. He let his fingers brush his lover's sideburns and hair.

_ "If you can't say it, think it." _

Mundy opened wide eyes, then smiled. He had forgotten how deeply Lucien can understand him. 

_ People say it feels… good. _

"It does. If you know what you're doing. And as you might assume, I know exactly that. But mon amour, are you ready to do that? I think it's an important milestone for us and I can wait if you think it's too soon."

"No."

Mundy looked Lucien dead in the eye. He clenched his hand on his lover's chest.

_ "I want you. I really do." _

"I hear you but I know you feel scared. I can feel it."

"Well y-yeah a bit but…"

Mundy sighed. 

_ I want you… I want to feel-… I can't even think that sentence out loud…  _

Lucien smiled. 

"I'm honoured that you think I am the right partner for this. I shall prove you right in thinking so."

"I-I just love you to bits."

"Viens ici…"

[Come here…]

The Frenchman laced his arms around his lover as he straddled him. He kissed his lips but he felt his lover's anxiety. 

"W-wait."

"Oui?"

"You didn't answer me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, do you uh… Do you want to  _ do it?" _

Lucien smiled. 

"Of course, I want you as much, if not more, that you want me."

Mundy half-smiled. 

"I love ya."

"Je t'aime aussi."

[I love you too.]

Lucien kissed his lover's lips and went down to his neck, his chest and stomach. Soon, he reached  _ where it mattered most. _ Mundy raised his head of the bed to watch. The Frenchman smiled. 

"Turn on your stomach, mon amour."

"Roight."

Mundy obeyed. He waited to feel his lover against him. Nothing. Although he heard Lucien move, Mundy didn't flinch until he heard the ladder creak. 

"W-where're you going?"

"Trust me."

Lucien searched through Mundy's cupboard until he found a bottle. In the dimness of the night, Mundy couldn't tell what it was. Dishwasher soap? Olive oil? What was in that cupboard again?

The Frenchman climbed in bed again. Mundy heard a light pop and the smell of olive oil slowly diffused in the air. 

"What are ya-?"

"Shush! You let me take care of you."

The Australian obeyed again. 

"Oooh…."

Mundy smiled. The Frenchman had spread his hands on his lover's back and was massaging him. 

"Mmmh… Thanks, luv'. You got some good hands…"

Lucien smiled. 

"And you need to relax…"

His hands brushed his lover's shoulder blades and went down his lower back, right and left from his spine, between the backstab wounds, the claw marks. Mundy closed his eyes. The Frenchman continued his massage and felt the effect of his massage. The Australian went more and more relaxed, but never ceased to moan under the Frenchman's skilled hands. 

Mundy's eyes went long closed when Lucien decided to shift his massage _ lower. _ The Australian opened his eyes and Lucien felt him. He resorted to speak to him in French, to sooth him.

_ "Que ce soit dimanche ou lundi _

_ [May it be Sunday or Monday] _

_ Soir ou matin minuit midi _

_ [Evening or morning midnight midday] _

_ Dans l'enfer ou le paradis _

_ [In hell or in heaven] _

_ Les amours aux amours ressemblent _

_ [Loves to loves look alike] _

_ C'était hier que j'ai dit  _

_ [It was yesterday I told you] _

_ Nous dormirons ensemble" _

_ [We will sleep together] _

The Australian closed his eyes again as the Frenchman finished to recite that poem by Louis Aragon,  _ Nous dormirons ensemble,  _ We will sleep together. If at first it was awkward and strange to feel the Frenchman's hands on his basckside and thighs, Mundy let himself go and finally enjoyed himself. Without realising it, he was smiling. 

"Mundy?"

"Mh?"

"When you listened to me sing, did you understand the lyrics?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Why do you ask?"

"I… Well obviously I had no idea you were physically in the room. However, I sang as if I knew for sure that you were there, as if you were looking at me from somewhere in the room, the gaze of our lagoon blue eyes weighing on me, impressing me as they always do."

"Oh…"

"Mundy, you might be the most shy of us, but you do impress me."

"Really?"

"Oui. You hide your personality very well. At first, I would never have thought you could be that soft."

"Oi, speak for yerself, you're a surprise and a half…!"

The Frenchman's hands went back to Mundy's lower back. His palms traced circles.

"I know. But in my case, my profession demands it. In your case, it's natural. You are very delicate and sensitive and you hide it, the best way to do it being of course to not expose yourself to any kind of emotions. Therefore, you choose to avoid social interactions."

"Mh. Might be true."

"But…!"

"But what?"

"But here we are…"

The Frenchman's hands slid up as he straddled his lover, sitting on his backside. 

"Mmh…"

"And something tells me you're enjoying this, non?"

"It was weird at first but you're so good at this…"

The Frenchman bent and lied on his lover's back, his lips next to Mundy's ear.

" _ Mon amour, je te veux, j'ai envie de toi…" _

_ [My love, I want you, I'm so eager, almost hungry for you…] _

"Mmh… So do I…"

The Australian felt  _ it _ . The Frenchman was moving his hips seductively behind him and something clicked. Without thinking it too much, Mundy was raising his hips, wanting to feel more of his lover against him. Lucien smiled and pressed himself more on his lover. 

"Mmmh… Lu'..."

"Oui?"

"I want you so much…"

Lucien's smile grew wider. 

"Ferme les yeux…"

[Close your eyes.]

Lucien slid his hand between the bed and his lover's stomach and wrapped his fingers around his lover's lust. He stroked it while making sure to press his hips harder and harder against his lover. 

"Aah…. Lu'... Lu', it's… aah…"

The Frenchman kissed his lover in the back of his neck and Mundy rolled his eyes up in pleasure. He couldn't know he could enjoy himself that much and bit his lip. 

"Lucien…"

The Frenchman's right hand slid down slowly. 

"Sh-should I do somethin' or..?"

"Shhh… Just relax mon amour, and close your eyes."

The Australian obeyed but felt the rush of adrenaline creeping up on him as the waves of pleasure created by Lucien's hand now mixed with the anticipation of discovering something new, something that was unknown and until now, only a fantasy. It was about to become true, to become real.

" _ Close your eyes…" _

The Frenchman started whispering. 

"...  _ Close your eyes and see. You're in Australia, in the desert. The sun is low and you spent a good day. But now, it's time to hunt." _

Lucien's hand on Mundy's masculinity was still working on  _ it  _ as his other hand caressed the Australian's lower back. 

_ "You take your bow and your arrows, and set foot outside of your van. You look around you, there's no one. You only see the starry night and the moon which sheds just enough light for you to see." _

Lucien's hand slid a bit lower as he sat up, still straddling his lover's upper thighs. 

"L-Lu', wait."

"Oui"

"Can I turn on my back rather than on my stomach?"

"Of course."

The Australian flipped and the Frenchman towered him again, staring at his eyes. 

"Close your eyes."

"N-no. I want to see you."

Lucien smiled. 

"Fine." 

The Frenchman pushed Mundy's legs apart and sat between them. He then lowered his body slowly until their chests touched and resumed his story. 

" _ You start walking in the desert, you know where you are and you know what you came here for." _

Lucien's hand went where it mattered most for Mundy. 

"Mmh…"

The Frenchman rested his forehead on his lover's. 

" _ You walk under the moonlight. It's only you, you and your bow and arrows. But suddenly you see it, your prey." _

Lucien's hand slid down, caressing slowly everything under Mundy's throbbing desire. The Australian's mouth went dry and he started breathing a bit louder. 

_ "You see it but it didn't see you, so you take advantage of the situation." _

Lucien's hand was now ready. Mundy was staring at him with his big, blue, innocent eyes.

_ "You take an arrow from your quiver and place it on the bow." _

The Frenchman's hand was on his own pulsating member. He had been wanting this for a long time but had never dared ask Mundy. He thought it would be better to wait for the right moment. And there he was now, about to fulfill  _ his _ fantasy too. 

_ "You aim at your prey, silently, making sure to make as little noise as possible and you pull on the string of your bow." _

"Aaah… L-Lu'..."

The Australian had automatically frowned and gritted his teeth as soon as he felt his lover.

" _ Sshhh, relax, breathe slowly… _ "

Lucien put his other hand on Mundy's member and stroked slowly. He watched as the Australian's jaw dropped slowly, his eyes rolling up. The Frenchman slid his fingers on his own masculinity closer to him.

_ "Don't worry, I won't hurt you…" _

Lucien left a kiss on his lover's lips before resuming his story.

_ "You pull the string of your bow more…" _

"Uuh… L-Lu'..."

The Frenchman slowly went on until he couldn't hold his member anymore. He then wrapped his arms around his lover and hugged him tightly, lying on him.

"Aah… Lu'... It's…"

" _ How does it feel?" _

_ "I-It's amazin'..."  _ Mundy had answered, whispering too. 

Lucien's eyebrows jumped as he felt his lover's legs wrap around his own body, pulling him impossibly closer to his lover. 

_ "I want to stay like this, with you, forever." _

The Frenchman smiled. He looked at his lover, took in his charms. He was proud, immensely so, to have found Mundy. And being in the position he was currently, his lover's legs wrapped around him and really  _ forming but one body with his lover _ , Lucien realised how much Mundy was precious, essential,  _ vital _ to him. He would give everything away to be with him, have the privilege to love him, see him everyday that God made and take care of all and any of his desires. Lucien slid his hands in his lover's, right and left of his head. Both clenched hard on the other's hands, their fingers lacing and pressing as hard as they could, in a game of  _ 'loving fingers-wrestling' _ . Lucien was absolutely loving the moment, he had craved it for so long. And it made sense. It didn't feel awkward, nor forced. It didn't feel like one of those stories that would end the next morning. Non,  _ it made so much sense. _

"The night is cold, mon amour, and we're dripping with sweat."

"I don't care."

Lucien smiled. 

"Neither do I."

The Australian found the strength to cup his lover's face and kiss his lips. As he did so, he felt Lucien's hips starting to move, slowly, and he smiled. He was ready for it and more importantly, he  _ wanted it _ .

"Mmmh…"

" _ Laisse-toi faire…" _

[ _ Let yourself go…]  _

The Frenchman knew that he had to proceed with care and delicately, and so he did. He started slowly and listened very carefully to Mundy's sighs and breath. 

"Mmmh... Lu'... I'm so lucky… To be with you…"

"Non, mon amour, I am the lucky one here. I have the privilege to be the one with whom you discover this all. I love you, I love you so much."

Lips locked and twisted as their breaths mixed and went louder. 

"Argh!"

The Australian cried and Lucien stopped sharp.

"Oh, sorry, did I hurt you?!"

"N-no, on the contrary, y-you did something and it felt… It felt great…! How did you do that?"

Lucien smirked. He slid a hand underneath his lover's neck and another behind his back.

"Oh, so I have found it…?"

"Found what?"

"Depending on how you see it, it's both your weak spot and a precious asset."

"Huh? What do you-aaah! Lucien!"

The Frenchman had thrusted his hips a couple times more and the Australian reacted on the spot. 

" _ Now you start to understand why people enjoy it so much, non?" _

"Oh… Yeah… I had no idea  _ that _ could happen, I can't even control it."

_ "Oh, non, you can't do anything but enjoy…!" _

The Frenchman locked his lips on his lover's again and thrust his hips back and forth again, still making sure to be slow enough that he wouldn't hurt his lover. Mundy was clearly more relaxed even though he was still clinging on his lover as he would to life itself.

The moans and loud breaths rose in the room and dissolved in the air. The temperature in the van rose.

Mundy was clinging to his lover, almost clawing in his back. The Frenchman was adoring his lover's neck, below his ear and his lover had lost his mind. Lucien's hand was on Mundy's desirous extremity and working hard on it. 

_ "L-Lu… Lu I love you… You make me feel… So good…" _

_ "Je te dévorerai tout cru tellement je t'aime!" _

_ [I love you so much that I would devour you raw!] _

Heartbeats raced as both sweated even more. 

_ "L-Lu… Please… D-don't-aah!" _

The Frenchman stopped sharp and raised his head to look his lover in eye.

"Pardon mon amour, did it hurt? I'm trying to go easy…"

Mundy smiled. He secretly loved to see his lover care so much about him and his well-being.

"No…"

Mundy's smile grew wider. 

"On the contrary, luv', don't hold back. It's not fair."

"Mundy, this is not about fairness. It's your first time and I want you to enjoy it as much as I do."

"Lu', I don't know in what language I should tell you this…  _ I. Bloody. Want. You. All of you. _ You without limits."

The Frenchman smirked and raised an eyebrow. 

"Try in French, maybe?"

Mundy smiled. 

_ "Je te veux…" _

_ [I want you…] _

The Australian hesitated before adding:

_ "... Putain de merde?" _

_ [... Bloody hell?] _

Lucien chuckled. 

"You're adorable. Your accent is exquisite…"

"So is yours. Also…"

"Mh?"

"Do you really think what you said?"

"About what?"

"That you'd… well…  _ eat me raw?" _

Lucien's eyebrows arched up as his eyelids fell halfway through his eyes. 

"As someone I know would say,  _ 'Oi don't know in whot language I should tell ya this', _ but of course, oui, I really think that!"

"Oi, I don't have such a ridiculous accent!"

"It's ridiculous when I imitate it, oui, but when you speak…"

Lucien went to Mundy's ear. 

_ "It's sexy." _

Mundy blushed and smiled. 

"Thanks luv'. But yeah, please, don't hold back, I… I uh… Ahem…"

The Australian gulped hard before adding:

_ "I want more…" _

Lucien's pupils went wide. 

"Are you… sure? Shall I really do what I please?"

Mundy nodded and pulled his lover's face to kiss him. 

" _ Très bien." _

[Very well.]

The Frenchman hugged Mundy tighter as he thrust his hips forward, as far as he could. 

"Oh my God!"

The Frenchman had buried his head in his lover's neck, in the shallow space between his shoulder and his neck actually. He pulled his hips back slowly...

_ "Mmmh… Mon amour, je t'aime…" _

And thrust forward much faster. 

"Oooh…" 

Mundy's moan had set Lucien's ears on fire and the Australian slid one hand in his lover's hair, grasping it firmly. The Frenchman did it again a couple of times, accelerating each time he'd pull out. In a minute or so, he went from going easy on his lover to listening to his body and his own craving above all. 

The bed and the whole van was shaking as Mundy forgot to hold his moans back. As much as Lucien was doing as he pleased, the Australian was also not restricting his vocal chords anymore. It was the middle of the night on a parking lot. Who would hear them? And even if they did, so what?! No! This time both of them would think only  _ of themselves _ and that was it!

The Frenchman was groaning too, gritting his teeth out of the sheer intensity of the rushes of pleasure he was feeling. It surprised Mundy at first. And as he felt his lover loving every moment of it, he realised how much Lucien had been holding back. But why had he done that? Only out of love and respect for Mundy. It hit the Australian like a train. Lucien loved him  _ that much _ , to the extent that he preferred not enjoying himself fully to make sure that Mundy was comfortable in his mind and his body. Who would do that? Who would not fall in the temptation to satisfy their own cravings and pulses of lust just out of…  _ love?  _ No one of course. 

"Ooh, God…! You're amazin', luv'."

"Nnnh!"

Lucien's moaning was as effective as his hand on his lover. Mundy had long closed his eyes to enjoy what his other senses would pick up and discover. He felt Lucien everywhere, it was perfect, that's exactly what he wanted,  _ be one with him,  _ seal their love in the flesh in the most intimate, and thus most intense and honest way. 

"L-Lu… I-I'm close… Lu…!"

The Frenchman released his hand on his lover's member which confused his lover at first but then Mundy felt Lucien get more intense. 

_ "Je t'aime Mundy, je t'aime à tuer, je t'aime à en mourir!" _

_ [I love you Mundy, I love you to the point of killing, to the point where I could die of love!] _

The Frenchman's thrust slowed down. 

"I'm.. close too… You have so much effect on me, Mundy…"

He pushed himself all the way in.

"Oo-hoo, I-Im-"

"You make my head spin, I forget about everything around me, I see only you…"

The Frenchman did it again. 

"Aaagh, Lucien!"

"Mundy, je ne pense qu'à toi, TU M'OBSÈDES!"

[Mundy, I can only think you, I'M OBSESSED WITH YOU!]

" _ AARGH!" _

That final thrust proved to be fatal for both of them. The Frenchman collapsed on his lover, hugging him as tightly as possible as he pushed himself as far as he could, all his muscles tensing and contracting at the same time. On his side of things, Mundy pulled Lucien in violently, grabbing him from his back and his backside, digging his nails in as far as he could. He clenched his legs hard, forcing the Frenchman to lay on him and be squeezed against him. Their cries filled the air and dissolved as their heavy breathing shooed them slowly. They ended up in each other's arms, where they wanted and above all  _ needed _ to be. The Australian wasn't letting go of Lucien who was panting in his lover's neck. Their chests rose and fell in sync as Mundy's legs fell on the bed limply.

"Woah… Oh-!"

The Frenchman tried to sit up and withdraw but Mundy clenched his grip, preventing him from doing so. 

"Mon amour?"

"P-please, stay a bit longer?"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"I'll stay as long as you want."

Lucien tightened his hug.

"Je t'aime."

[I love you.]

"I love you too, I really do."

The Frenchman put his head back in his lover neck and whispered.

" _ Did you like it?" _

"Y-yeah… It was bloody amazin'..."

" _ I'm glad you did. I have but one regret." _

"Oh?"

Lucien raised his head and put his forehead on his lover's. His brows was dripping with sweat but Mundy didn't care. 

"I wish I could have su-mmph!"

The Australian smacked his hand on his lover's mouth. 

"Oi, oi! How can you be the most romantic man on Earth with a mouth  _ that _ dirty!"

The Frenchman wiggled his eyebrows and his lover released his fingers.

"Well how can you be the most shy man on Earth and you still did ask me to fu-mph?!"

"Oh my God, Lu' I swear you're doin' it on purpose!"

The Frenchman kissed the hand that blocked his mouth and Mundy released it again. Lucien took Mundy's hand in his and kissed his fingers, his knuckles, one by one. The Australian watched and he felt his insides melt. The Frenchman came back to lie on his lover's chest, keeping Mundy's fingers on his lips, kissing them from time to time. 

Silence fell in the van, which was only occasionally interrupted by Lucien kissing his lover's hand or Mundy kissing his lover's hair. 

"I love ya."

"So do I. Look at what you're doing to me."

"Whot?"

The Frenchman turned his head to whisper in his lover's ear. 

" _ Usually, by this point, I don't need to pull much to withdraw but I'm still ha-mph!?" _

"Crickey! You can sing and recite poems but for  _ these things _ you can't be a bit delicate, can you?!"

"How should I say it then?!"

"Well you're the one who's clever with words! Think about it and come up with something!"

The Frenchman sighed and rolled his eyes up as he smiled. 

"Fine. Let's say that you have such a strong effect on me that my body doesn't want to let go of you, is that alright for Monsieur's prude ears?"

"Yeah, much better! See? You can do it if you want! No need to be so… uh…"

"Explicit?"

"Y-yeah!"

Lucien kissed his lover's neck as he chuckled.

"May I withdraw now?"

"As you'd say,  _ oui. _ But there's no way you're leaving my arms."

"As you'd say,  _ roight." _

"Lu', I've been missing you too much to just let go of you like that. I've got you now, well so be it, I'm not letting you go anywhere, not again."

"Can I at least ask that you cover me with the blanket,  _ mon chéri? _ "

" _ Your cherry?!" _

"Non! Hahaha!  _ 'Mon chéri'  _ means  _ 'my darling', _ not 'my cherry'!"

"Oh, roight, roight…" 

Mundy obliged and covered his lover. 

"Mmmh… Merci, Mundy."

[Thank you.]

_ "De rien." _

_ [You're welcome.] _

Lucien's ears pricked up. 

"If you keep on speaking French with that accent,  _ my body will react again _ , Mundy."

"Well deal with it! I have to face that all the time when  _ you _ speak yer damn sexy language."

The Frenchman chuckled and Mundy smiled. 

"Mon amour, I am quite tired."

"I'm exhausted too."

"Do you mind if I sleep with you here tonight?"

"You bloody jokin'?!"

"Non, I-... My hotel room isn't that far but I don't have the heart to leave you."

"No you baguette-head! I meant that I would rather see my van blow up rather than let you go!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you,  _ mon coeur." _

_ [my heart] _

"I love ya too,  _ sweetheart." _

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

OOF! What a  _ chonkeh  _ chapter!

I hope you liked reading it as much as I did writing it! :D

Please do let me know what you thought about it in the comments :) !!

Thank you brave commenters and discord friends :D Your kind words are my fuel to provide more  _ floof! _

I might take a bit of a break before I can write 46. (45 sucked the life out of me!)

Stay tuned for more!

  
  
  
  



	46. Chapter 46

When the first rays of light shone on the van, both men were still deeply sleeping. The previous day had been exhausting for both of them, physically and emotionally. But what a sweet coincidence. Actually, was it pure luck or did  _ the All-Mighty up there _ guide their steps to find each other? 

Mundy opened his eyes, slowly. When he saw the Frenchman in his arms, a rush of blood washed his brain inside. He was spooning him, his arms tightly wrapped around the thin silhouette of the object of his desires. The Australian smiled as he took a deep breath, the lingering smell of Lucien's perfume was now everywhere in his van and in his bed, but most importantly, the most handsome man on the planet was in his bed and in his very arms.

Mundy closed his eyes as his mind rolled back. He had gone to buy a pack of his lover's cigarettes. Then things happened and now, said lover that he had lost and who supposedly was somewhere at the opposite end of the globe was in his arms. It all happened so fast, too fast!

And what a night he did spend with him. His first proper-well… It wasn't his first night with Lucien. Nah, it was his first ever  _ complete love night. _ Mundy sighed and moved to have his lover's head under his chin, still spooning Lucien. He adjusted the blanket on his lover and himself, and continued thinking. 

His first bloody love night. At his age. My God. He felt both different and exactly the same. He was still Mundy, the awkward and shy Aussie man but he was also someone's  _ lover. Lucien's lover. _ The most handsome man on the planet's lover. 

The Australian smiled and felt the heat on his cheeks.

"Mmmh…"

Lucien opened his eyes slowly. 

"Bonjour mon amour."

Mundy buried his head on his lover's back and kissed him. 

"Mornin' luv'."

"Mmmh… I love it when I wake up in your arms."

"And I love it when I wake up with you in my arms."

"How do you feel?"

"Bloody amazin'..."

Lucien smiled. He turned to face his lover. 

"Nothing is hurting?"

"Mh-no, why?"

"I didn't spare you yesterday…"

The Frenchman said, smirking. 

"I feel alroight."

"Good."

Lucien slid closer to his lover and put his lips on Mundy's.

"Mmmh…"

He broke the kiss making a loud lapping sound and Mundy felt his ears go hot.

" _ J'adore tes lèvres." _

_ [I love your lips.] _

The Australian smiled. 

"So do I."

He turned to lie on his back and Lucien put his head on his lover's shoulder. The Frenchman caressed Mundy's chest slowly. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I love yer hands."

The Frenchman smiled.

"I love yours too."

"Bah, mine are rough and calloused."

"And how is that a bad thing?"

"I-I don't know… It's just not uh… Nice?"

"And who tells you that?"

Mundy frowned. 

"Well it's bloody obvious, innit?"

Lucien raised himself off his lover's chest and rested and arm on it. He put a leg between his lover's.

"Non, I like your hands. They're way more manly than mine. I like their rough touch on my skin, especially when you hold my c-mph!"

Mundy smacked his hand on his lover's mouth just in time!

"Oi! Blimey! I get what you mean! No need to say it out loud!"

The Frenchman wiggled his eyebrows and straddled his lover. Mundy's hand sank down, his fingers brushing his lover's mouth. Lucien raised an eyebrow and bit Mundy's index finger playfully. The Australian blushed and gulped down hard.

"Can-can I say somethin'?"

Lucien nodded, Mundy's finger still between his teeth. 

"I uh… I mean you… Ah, I don't know how to say this."

The Frenchman released his lover's finger and took his hand to put it on his own cheek.

"I mean… It's uh… Blimey, I can't say it."

Lucien flapped his eyelashes slowly and put his forehead on his lover's. The Australian lost his fingers in the Frenchman's hair. 

"When you look at me and you-... Argh, it's yer eyes and yer face and… You… I can't say it."

Lucien dived down to put his lips next to his lover ear and whispered. 

"Yes, you can. Whisper it if you want."

The Australian turned his head slightly and screwing his eyes shut very hard, he whispered. 

" _ Y-you turn me on." _

The Frenchman smiled.

"Oh so I can't use words like that but you can, hm?"

"I-I'm sorry…"

"Mon amour…"

Lucien put his index under his lover's chin.

"You turn me on too, Mundy."

"No but like really… I-uh… It's like I look at you and I feel it instantly."

The Frenchman couldn't be happier. He sat up next to his lover, his back against the wall and put a cigarette between his lips. 

"I am delighted I have that effect on you."

"Oh, come on, you must have uh…  _ provoked that _ in many people before me!"

"Oh, oui, absolutely but…"

The Frenchman puffed on his cigarette and released a beautiful ring of smoke.

"But what?"

"But I didn't know I could have that effect on people still…"

"Look luv', you're gorgeous, you're absolutely-uh… It's like when you go to a museum."

" _ Quoi?" _

_ [What?] _

"I mean, when you go to a museum, you see paintings roight?"

"Oui."

"And statues, roight?"

"Oui."

"You're like one of those…"

Mundy, who was still lying on his back, looked up through the ceiling window, at the clear sky which was slowly shining brighter as the sun was rising. 

"You're so good-lookin', it's just absurd. Like those statues. They're perfect. They're made of hard rock but some brave greek bloke carved it until it looked smooth, soft and gorgeous. You look at it and there's one mystery about it all: how the hell did they manage to turn a rock into such a smooth statue? Just how?!"

"Oh, but I have the answer for that, mon amour."

The Australian raised his eyes. 

"Oh?"

"With the same love and passion that you turned my stone-cold heart into something much, much softer. Mon amour, with your thin lips you blew life into me like air in a balloon and my heart now just floats happily. And oui, the way you did this, is with this..."

Lucien put his cigarette between his lips and pointed at his lover's chest.

"And those…"

He put his finger on Mundy's lips. The taller man smiled and blushed.

"And also this…"

Mundy watched as Lucien's finger slid  _ down south. _

"Oh…"

The Frenchman smiled and resumed his smoking. 

"But enough talking about what I love in life. Yesterday you said you wanted to talk to me seriously."

"Oh y-yeah. I mean, I guess my main point is how are we uh… I mean I'm still workin' for Mann Co. and you now got a job here so…"

Lucien frowned.

"Mh, that's true."

The Frenchman pondered for a while, the smoke of his cigarette elegantly swirling around.

"I-I mean we could still see each other every weekend, y'know…"

"Oui, we could."

Silence fell in the van. The Frenchman finished his cigarette, crushed it and elegantly threw it from the top of the bed to the bin. 

"But…" Mundy said. 

"But?"

"But I-I…"

Lucien smiled. Some would be annoyed at Mundy's stutter; not the Frenchman. He loved it and above all, he wanted to thank his lover every time. It must take a lot of energy and courage to speak one's mind when one is as shy as the Australian. Lucien had learnt to let his lover take his time.

"I just… I don't want you to go. I-I want you to stay."

"So do I. But I'm afraid the Administrator has hired someone else in my stead."

"Yeah, she did. And uh… He knows you."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. 

"What?"

"I-uh… Long story short, he's French too and he knows you from your reputation as a spy."

Lucien frowned. 

"So he must have told you quite a number of things about me, non?"

"I asked him too."

"You what?"

"Look luv', I was missin' you too much and when he said he knew you, I asked him to tell me everything he knew about you. I didn't know you had such a reputation, I got mindblown…"

Mundy moved on the bed to lie with his head on Lucien's lap. The Frenchman instinctively slid a hand in his lover's hair and brushed it slowly. 

"... You did some incredible stuff back then eh? Also your nickname…!  _ Agent Lucien Le Bel _ : agent Lucien the handsome!"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"I mean, mate, what a career! And you never told me that the Minister of Defense still asks you to go back to France and become an instructor to this day! Why didn't you accept?"

"Now I have a very good reason."

Mundy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 

"Whot?"

"Had I accepted that position, we would never have met."

"Oh… Y-yeah I s'ppose that's true but why didn't you accept at the time? I mean, before we met?"

Lucien pulled the blanket to better cover his lover. 

"Because I needed to think."

"About what? I guess they would have paid you very well and you'd be yer own boss, so no one to really have any pressure from."

"Oui, but I didn't know what I want or who I was anymore. I needed to take some time off everyone and everything, and think."

"Oh, roight, I see."

Silence fell again, during which Lucien appreciated the feeling of his lover's hair gliding through his fingers.

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"So, what are we gonna do?"

"I do not know. What do  _ you _ think?"

Of course the Frenchman had an idea in mind. But first, he needed to know what his lover was thinking. 

"I-I don't know. I mean…"

The Australian sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"Pfff, I guess I could uh… No, wait. I have to be sure… Is it the roight thing to do? I don't know… B-but it's  _ you! _ Ugh…"

The Frenchman listened silently. At that point, Mundy was thinking out loud. 

"Bugger… I guess the question at the heart of it all is  _ how much do I love you?" _

Lucien stopped brushing his lover's hair. Mundy opened wide eyes. Silence fell for a long moment. The Australian's eyes zigzagged from left to right anxiously. His mouth went dry and his heart beat fast. 

"Would you prefer me to leave you alone?" The Frenchman asked. 

"N-no. Wait, don't go, let me think."

"Fine."

The Frenchman didn't dare move. He stayed on the bed, his lover's head on her lap. Mundy sighed a deep and long breath. He put a hand on his face and let it sink down. 

"If I love you really, I guess I should… I-I mean, yeah, it makes sense, roight? Pff… I can't even call mum and dad to talk to them…"

"Why?" Lucien asked. Mundy removed his hand from his face and looked up at his lover. 

"Because they don't know I like…  _ blokes." _

"Oh…"

"And it doesn't make sense to tell them over the phone, roight? It'd be better to be there with them the day I tell them. But I need to ask someone, I need to talk to someone who knows me."

Lucien resumed his brushing of his lover's hair. 

"Bugger… Either way I'm screwed."

" _ Ahem." _ The Frenchman exaggerated his cough. 

"Whot?"

"Who are these people  _ screwing you?" _

"Pfff…" Mundy smiled. "Luv', screwing doesn't only mean… Y'know…  _ Doing the thing. _ "

"Oh but what thing, pray enlighten me? I'm afraid my knowledge of English is very limited."

"Oh I know…"

The Australian wanted to provoke his lover and it did not fail. 

"What?! I believe I do speak English to a good extent!"

"Yeah, ya keep tellin' yerself just that…"

"Fine. If my English is not good enough for Monsieur,  _ je parlerai Français alors." _

_ [I will then speak French.] _

"D'accord. Tu sais que je te comprends en Français aussi?"

[Agreed. You know that I can understand French too?]

Mundy answered with a thick accent. The Frenchman smiled. 

"Oui, je sais. And pardon my saying but your French still leaves a great deal to be desired."

"Oi!"

The Frenchman smirked. 

"I-I'm makin' efforts!"

Mundy sat up.

"I know you are, mon amour. I'm merely joking."

"Hm…"

"Something's the matter?"

"I still don't have my answer."

"Look Mundy, you've kept on thinking out loud with me never ending one of your sentences entirely. I can help you. Just tell me what you feel and I'll try my best to help."

"But you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you- uh…  _ You love me.  _ That makes you biased."

" _ Oui et non. _ I can think using my brain and not my heart, if only you speak openly."

Mundy sighed. 

"Fine."

The Australian pushed Lucien's legs apart and sat cross-legged between them. He lowered his head. 

"I-... I could give up Mann Co. and find somethin' to do nearby so that I stay with you all the time. But to make that decision, I need to make sure that I uh… Don't take it badly, luv', okay? But I need to know that I love you  _ that much _ . To give that job up, I mean, nowhere else can you be paid to kill but not really kill at the same time, it's the dream job! And I need to know that what we're havin' will last, that it's worth quitting everything and just living with you."

Lucien took Mundy's fiddling finger between his. 

"Mon amour?"

The Australian's head was still low. He had talked without once making eye contact with his lover. It was hard to get those thoughts out and facing Lucien's icy glare was too intense. 

" _ Regarde-moi." _

_ [Look at me.] _

"I-I can't."

"Yes, you can."

The Frenchman pressed slightly on his lover's fingers and Mundy raised his head. 

"I can answer one of your worries."

"Oh?"

"Mundy,  _ mon amour, mon coeur et ma vie…" _

[My love, my heart and my life…]

The Frenchman cleared his throat and resumed his sentence. 

"I have stayed in a hotel room for months, incapable to go back to what I used to call home. You know why? Because my home is there."

Lucien poked Mundy's chest on his heart. 

"If you want to continue working for Mann Co. is entirely up to you. However, let me tell you that I have nowhere to go but at your side. This story we are building, you worry that it will not last. Well, I am quite distraught to hear so. I want it to last, I will make it last as long as you want it to. I love you Mundy, I love you and feel dead inside when you're not close to me. I want to spend what little of my days I have left with you at my side, taking care of you, sharing my days and nights with you. So I would say do not worry about this story we are writing, it will be as strong and durable as we make it, you and I. And on  _ my  _ side of things, I want it to last until my last breath, and even beyond."

Mundy felt hot, his lips were trembling. The Frenchman cupped his face with his hands and looked into the Australian's eyes. 

"Mon amour, I told you already. You are my last companion in this life I am living. And I will repeat myself, but I want it that way. I want the last person my heart yearns for to be you. You are very dear to me, actually, you are my dearest. Nothing else matters."

Mundy's jaw had dropped, his lips parting slightly and his pupils the size of a planet. 

"Oh-"

His mouth was dry and no sound could escape from his mouth. 

"But the decision is entirely yours to make."

Silence fell in the van as the sun finished to completely rise above the horizon. Mundy put his hands on his head and scratched. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to leave you to think in peace about it?"

Mundy's hands sank down on the bed and he lowered his head.

"Nah. I made up my mind."

"Oh?"

Lucien tilts his head on the side. 

"It's just that… Those past months without ya have been so painful. I didn't want to wake up or work or anything. You were always at the back of my mind and I was, well… I was always looking for you, every where, in everythin'. Even though my head knew you were somewhere in Paris, I was still sort of uh… hoping, hoping very hard that you'd show up in me van or something. And, well I s'ppose you don't care much but I took back the habit of having lunch and dinner on me own in the van. I'd go to the kitchen, get a sandwich and eat it here, with your music on…"

Lucien put a hand in front of his mouth. 

"I'm sorry, mon amour…"

"Bah, it's not yer fault. Also, uhm, d'you mind if I…?"

Mundy slid a hand under the pillow Lucien was half sitting, half leaning his back against and got a few objects. 

"...See, that's the mask you left me, and that? That's the note you left on the record player. It still smells of your vanilla handcream."

Lucien opened wide surprised eyes. He was moved by all that. His lover had kept anything that still connected him to the Frenchman very dearly. 

"I keep them under my pillow and when I miss you too much, I hold yer mask close to me to sleep. It has your perfume all over it and it uh… I mean sometimes I… I hold it and cry,  _ a bit… _ "

Lucien spotted the lie instantly and pictured Mundy crying heavily in his bed, like that time he had slipped in his van. He smiled, albeit sadly. 

"Mon amour, I am sorry you were  _ that _ distraught."

"Pff, I wasn't just  _ distraught _ , I was-I was… Uh!"

Mundy couldn't find the word. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui mon coeur?"

[Yes my heart?]

Mundy cupped Lucien's face in his hands. 

"I'll leave Mann Co."

The Frenchman's eyebrows jumped in surprise. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're more important. You're the best thing that ever happened in my life. God only knows if that whole thing will last, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of."

"Hm?"

Lucien's eyebrows went up. He had question marks in his eyes. 

"I won't bear it if we ever get separated again."

The Frenchman softened in a sweet smile and the Australian returned it. A important decision had been made and they let the silent wrap them in the rays of the fresh sunlight, their eyes riveted on each other's; one swimming in the lagoon of the Caribbean blue waters of Australia, the other skating on the clear, shiny ice of the South-West of France.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for the long wait, guys. I think I will take my time a bit more now as I'm reaching the end bit of my ideas for Sniper/Spy. Ready your handkerchiefs, the end might be nearer than you or I think. 

Please do leave a comment to let me know what you think, it makes a huge difference to me :) 

See you around for 47!


	47. Chapter 47

\-- Mundy's van -- 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

Both men were sitting next to each other on the bed, still naked and only covered up to their waists with the blanket. 

"I never want to leave this bed with you."

"Me neither."

"And also, I need to thank you."

The Australian turned his head.

"Why?"

"By making that decision, you…  _ euh…" _

_ [uh…] _

Mundy's lips parted, his jaw dropping slightly. Seldom had he heard his lover at a loss for words. 

"You…"

"Take yer time, luv'."

The Frenchman lowered his head. 

"By making that decision, you're telling me that you truly believe in…  _ us. _ "

"Yeah, I do."

"I… I am honoured. It's the first time this happens to me."

"No, it's not."

"Quoi?"

[What?]

"You have a kid."

Lucien froze. 

"Oui, I do."

"So you must have had that strong a connection with at least another person."

"His mother? Oui, but you're wrong. That's not what I meant."

"Oh?"

"I meant it's the first time that someone gives up something for me. With that woman,  _ I _ was the one who gave up everything for her. But now? Now,  _ you _ are doing it  _ for me  _ and-and…"

Mundy was hanging from Lucien's lips, the Frenchman's tone of voice was growing louder. 

"... And now I am in the opposite position! I'm-you, argh!"

Lucien held his head with his hands. 

"And it's just-argh!"

"Wait, calm down, what is it? Tell me."

"It's…"

Lucien gritted his teeth and hissed. 

"Mon Dieu, I feel like…"

"Luv'?"

Mundy took one of Lucien's hands in his and made him lean on his shoulder. 

"Oui?"

" _ If you can't say it, think it." _ The Australian said, trying to imitate his lover's accent. 

"But-?"

"No buts,  _ mon amour." _

Lucien sighed. Mundy's accent as he spoke French tickled the older man's heart.

"Fine. I will think it. Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

Lucien closed his eyes and frowned.

_ I feel like I have found a purpose in my life. _

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"You feel like you've found a purpose in yer life?"

Lucien raised his head to meet his lover's gaze. 

"Oui, finally."

" _ Finally?" _

"Oui…"

Lucien snuggled up closer to his lover. Mundy wrapped an arm around him as his lover adjusted the blanket. 

"You know, mon amour, I've thought about it long, large and through as we say in French. I've spent my life running. First, running to become someone, then running away from my problems and now it seems that I have crashed in the arms of the one man destiny had put aside for me. Oh, and what a man…!"

"Who's that?" Mundy asked playfully, trying to make the atmosphere less tense.

"Oh I'm sure you know him. He's Australian, tall, gorgeous…"

The Australian blushed.

"An Aussie you say? I heard that bunch was wild."

"Quite so, quite so. He is indeed _ wild,  _ especially in the private moments…"

"Oh?"

Mundy went red as a brick. 

"Oui, his touch is rough, his hands are strong and powerful, his eyes are mesmerising, and his lips… Hmm…"

"S-stop it!"

Mundy chuckled and his lover smiled, putting a hand on the Australian's chest, losing his fingers on his chest hair. Lucien smirked and raised his head again to take in the view of his tomato-red faced lover. 

"His body is perfect. I love every bit of it, the roughness of his skin, the caramel tint of it… Seeing it makes something click in my head and I get hungry for it, instantly…"

Mundy bit his lip, trying to avoid his lover's gaze. He was hot from his toes to his ears. 

"Oh and when he's naked and I feel his skin against mine,  _ ooooh… _ "

The Australian gulped down hard.

"But what gets me is his eyes. When they stare at me, his cheeks turning pink, his thin lips parting and oh, have I told you about his voice?"

Mundy screwed his legs shut, squeezing his thighs tightly together under the blanket. Lucien noticed it and smirked.

"His voice is an absolute delight. It's hoarse, very manly, the voice of someone who has lived through quite a lot despite his age. Oui, he's a bit younger than I am, so what? I love him that way. His insecurities, his lack of self-confidence, his shyness, I find them all adorable. His company is a delight."

The Australian's mouth was dry. 

"I would give everything up for him."

"Ah-uh, well, uh-I mean you-erm…"

Lucien burst out laughing. 

"Whot?"

"I had almost forgotten to mention it."

"Mention what?"

"I can make the smallest compliment to him, and he loses his words."

Mundy smiled. 

"Y-yeah, it happens sometimes. But you're wrong."

"Oh?"

"It's not just yer words that make me stutter."

"What is it then?"

"Y-yer eyes…"

The Australian looked into the Frenchman's ice-drop like, blue eyes. His pupils widened and the older man's smile grew bigger. 

"Okay, I'll say it. When ya look into my eyes, I feel like you can see what I have roight inside my head…"

"Well I have now proved more than once that I can read you like an open book, so it doesn't surprise me that you think that way."

"Yeah nah but even before. Anytime I'd cross yer eyes, I'd feel it."

Lucien left a quick peck on his lover's arm and Mundy smiled as he thought about how romantic his lover was.

"But you, Headshot Man, you can do it too apparently."

"I can do what?"

"Read my thoughts."

"I-well, I guess so."

"Mmmh, I love the idea of you being able to read my thoughts, in a way, you're the ultimate spy!"

"Oi, hold on! I'm no Spook, Baguette Knife!"

"Oh oui, you are! You can read the most intimate thoughts of a  _ spook _ as you say. So that makes you a  _ double-spook!" _

"Ew! That's disgusting!" The Australian spat comically. 

"Hey! Pray elaborate on what you find disgusting in a spy!" Lucien answered.

Mundy burst out laughing heartily. 

"I am having a sulk, Bushman!"

Lucien crossed his arms on his chest. 

"Oh, nah, c'mon!"

The Australian wrapped his arms around his lover. 

"C'mere…"

Lucien let his lover do what he wanted. The tall man opened his legs apart and pulled the Frenchman to sit there and lean his back against Mundy's chest. The Australian wrapped his arms around the Frenchman's chest and nuzzled in his neck.

"Stop it, you're tickling me!"

Lucien wiggled slightly left and right but his lover kept him firmly in his arms. 

"Mmmh? Someone's ticklish?"

"Bushman! Hahaha! Stop it! Please! Mundy!"

"What if I don't want to, eh?"

Mundy's finger went to Lucien's sides and he teased his skin a bit more there. 

"Bushmaaan!"

The Australian stopped and his lover collapsed on Mundy's chest. 

"Aaah… You killed me…"

Mundy looked down and kissed his lover's head. 

"I hope I didn't. I still need ya."

"So do I mon amour."

Lucien raised his arm and put his hand against his lover's cheek, stroking it from below, his head looking up, seeing his lover the wrong way around. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"You're gorgeous." 

"Mmmh… Merci…!"

The Frenchman closed his eyes as he felt his lover's lips on his forehead. 

"I could stay here all day long."

"Moi aussi, mon amour…"

[Me too, my love.]

Lucien held Mundy's hand in his and fiddled with his fingers, putting him against his lips and nibbling at them. The Australian leaned his head back against the wall and started humming while his free hand brushed the Frenchman's skin. 

"You had any plans for today mon amour? I don't want to be in the way."

"Well, after last night… Y-yeah, I do have a plan I guess, I mean I'm not really sure."

"Oh, I guess I should go then if you have things to do."

Lucien started moving on the bed and freed himself from his lover's embrace.

"Well, I don't have  _ something _ to do…"

The Frenchman was about to go down the ladder. He turned back to look at his lover, raising one eyebrow. 

"What do you mean? What will you do?

Mundy got closer to his lover, on all four. Lucien watched as his lover extended his hand and grabbed the Frenchman by his chin, with only his index finger and his thumb. Lucien opened wide eye. Mundy was smirking. He licked his lips and said, with his low gravelly voice.

" _ I will do you." _

Lucien's jaw dropped in his lover's fingers. Mundy pulled him and pushed the Frenchman to lie on the bed, on his back. 

"You had yer fun yesterday, roight?"

Lucien nodded, completely at a loss as to what to expect.

"Time for me to have mine."

Mundy was on all four, towering his lover, his eyes black with lust. Lucien's breath cut sharp.

"You're surprising me mon amour."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Non, it is a delight. Pray continue."

Mundy let his fingers run down his lover's face and his chest.

"Yesterday, we took a big step forward, luv'."

"Oui, and this morning, you did one too, by deciding to leave Mann Co."

"Yeah but there's one thing I won't leave this morning."

Lucien smirked. 

"And what is that, hm?"

The Australian bent down until his lips were next to his lover's ear. He whispered two words softly and Lucien went red as a brick. 

"Mundy! If I had known you'd say that, I would have done what you usually do to me! I would have put my hand on your mouth!"

The Australian smirked, his lips parting slightly, his fang-like canines shining under the sunlight. 

"You can try…"

Lucien bit his lip. He was back, the hungry wild wolf was back! The Frenchman could see it in his lover's eyes, and his own heart woke up with a violent beat in his chest.

"...But I'll be all over you before you can do anything…"

Mundy's lips finally touched Lucien's neck, below his ear and the Frenchman moaned softly, grasping Mundy's hair behind his head. 

"Oh, Mundy…"

"Today, luv', I will have you do something that turns me on so much I might as well bite you for real when you do it…"

Lucien's eyes snapped wide open, he was crimson red. But he easily resumed his cold-blooded attitude. Ah the force of professional habits…

" _ When _ I do it? Who tells you that I  _ will _ do it, hm?"

Mundy planted his teeth on Lucien's neck, digging slowly. 

"Oh mon Dieu!"

The Frenchman clenched his fingers on his lover's hair and soon he felt Mundy's tongue licking where he had been bitten as if to sooth the sharp pain away. 

"Trust me, you  _ will. _ "

The Australian continued to have his way with Lucien's neck when a thought crossed his mind. He remembered the first time he kissed his lover's neck. Lucien had told him that he could have his way as the mask would cover any marks. However, now, the Frenchman wasn't wearing a mask anymore. Therefore, any mark on his skin would remain and could be seen by anyone… 

"Mmmmh… Mundy…"

The taller man smirked, he moved to his lover's right side of the neck and bit there.

"Ah-!"

He then sucked at the skin. He  _ wanted _ to leave a mark, he wanted the world to see Lucien branded with the mark of  _ his _ fangs,  _ his _ love,  _ him _ in a word. 

"M-Mundy, mon Dieu!"

The Australian grinned maliciously. He could feel the blood rush in his lover below his lips. He eventually removed them and looked. The place was red, intensely so. He smirked, satisfied. 

"Now there's no mask to hide that, luv'. Yer mine."

Lucien rolled his eyes up and jerked his head back in pleasure. He hadn't thought about it and the thought of people seeing a hickey on his neck, a mark left by Mundy when they made love; that thought alone made his guts twitch. The Frenchman wrapped his legs behind the Australian's back and pulled him to himself. He wanted to feel all of him on himself. Mundy smiled and obliged as his mouth moved to be on Lucien's. And he found the Frenchman was quite hungry, he kissed him almost hastily, overwhelmed by his pulse to taste his lips. Mundy smirked. In a couple of minutes only, he had managed to surprise his lover and get him to be  _ in the mood. _

"Oh oui…"

Mundy had rubbed his pelvis against Lucien's slowly and oh, yes indeed, they were both very much in the mood…! 

"Mundy, mon amour, how-? Why-?"

"What? You want me to stop?"

"Non, I'm just… I'm taken aback. I didn't expect any of this."

"Lucien, look, I just want you.  _ Je te veux partout et toujours." _

[ _ I want you everywhere and all the time.] _

Mundy dived in his lover's lips again, holding his lover's hands in his, lacing their fingers together. They both felt incredibly lucky, privileged. The temperature in the van rose gradually as Mundy went down on his lover, tasting every bit of skin there was. Kissing wasn't enough anymore. The Australian spent some time on his lover's chest. He flicked his tongue against the Frenchman's nipple and felt a spasm rush through Lucien's body. 

"Oh, oui, Mundy…!"

The taller man smirked and bit it before sucking it between his teeth.

"Mon Dieu!"

Lucien's voice was loud now. He had lost his temper, his calm and any thread that linked him to reality had broken. The taller man wanted to carve his brain with the memories of all the sensations he was feeling. The buzzes of Lucien's fingers touching his skin, the sharp stinging of his nails and his heart swelling under the Frenchman's lips; all that, and the surges of pleasure _down south._

"Mh-! Merde, Mundy!"

Mundy knew that the Frenchman was sensitive there but he couldn't get enough of his lover's earnest cries of pleasure. So he spent a long time on the Frenchman's chest, feeling the Frenchman's fingers clench on his hair harder as he bit or sucked more.

"Mundy…!"

The Australian felt it. Each time the Frenchman said his name or moaned, he would get a bit harder  _ down south _ . Mundy went up to Lucien's ear and growled. 

"Mmmh, someone's enjoyin' themselves…?"

"Oui-oui, you're, oooh, you make me feel amazing…"

The Australian grabbed his lover by his lips with his own and let them go quickly. He teased his lover a couple of time with very short kisses before-oh!

"Mundy, embrasse-moi, s'il te plaît!"

[Mundy, kiss me, please!]

Mundy's ears pricked up and he smirked. He stuck his tongue out and let it paint his lover's upper lip. Lucien's eyes were wide and black, like a panther in the dark. He stuck his tongue out to make contact with his lover's but Mundy took it away. And again, the Australian waited for his lover to hide his tongue away before teasing him again, and when Lucien reacted, Mundy withdrew. 

"Why tease me so much and not give me what I want…?" 

Mundy eyes flashed and Lucien's lips parted. 

"You'll understand it in time…"

The Frenchman bit his lip. 

"You are absolutely irresistible when you behave like this, Mundy…!"

The Australian smiled.

"Wait for it, I'm not done with you, not by a long shot."

Mundy tapped Lucien's nose playfully and the Frenchman smiled. 

"I can't wait for what's next then."

"Roight, watch here…"

Lucien watched as his lover put a hand on the edge of the bed and then slipped under the mattress. The hand sprang back up with a bottle between its fingers. 

"It should work better than olive oil…"

When the realisation hit Lucien, it hit him hard and his jaw dropped. Meanwhile, Mundy poured a bit of the liquid on his hand. 

"On yer back, luv'."

Lucien was absolutely taken aback. Surely  _ that _ was not happening, was it?! Mundy wanted to-? Really?! The Frenchman obeyed and felt his lover straddle him. 

"I guess you're much more used than me to this all."

"O-oui, I think so…"

Lucien was still uncertain about what would happen. 

"But I think there is one thing you are not used to."

"Oh?"

The Australian bent down and lied on his lover's back. His hand slipped between the bed and his lover's chest and travelled down until it met with Lucien's extremity.

"Ooh, my, my… Someone's impatient…!"

Lucien, for the first time in a  _ very _ long time, was speechless. He couldn't answer anything. 

"Lost yer tongue?"

"Ah, uh, well… Ahem…"

"Look who's stutterin' now, hm?"

"Oh mon D-!"

Mundy had wrapped his fingers around  _ it _ and started stroking up and down.

"Oooh… Mundy…"

"Ya get yer tongue back I see?"

"Ah-haa…"

Mundy looked at Lucien's face. The man was possessed. He had rolled his eyes up. But suddenly, the Australian slowed down on his strokes. To compensate for that, Lucien started to move his hips back and forth. 

"Ooh, no, that's not what's gonna happen now, luv'..."

Mundy removed his hand and slid down Lucien's back. The Frenchman turned his head to try and see what was happening. He felt Mundy pushing his legs apart and heard the cap of that bottle that Mundy got pop open. 

"Mundy, what are you-?"

"Ssshhh… Let me have my fun."

Lucien laid his head on the bed and shut up, lying on his stomach, his legs open. It took a couple seconds of silence that seemed like eternity before-

"Oooh… Mundy…!"

The Frenchman moaned. He felt Mundy's fingers massaging him down and behind. 

"You have amazing hands…"

The Australian smiled. 

"I learned from the best."

Lucien smiled, his eyes closed. Mundy massaged his upper thighs and lower back thoroughly before getting busy with what was right in between. He let his fingers approach gently and slowly. 

"Mmmh…"

The Frenchman was on another planet. His lover was being patient to put him in as much ease and comfort as Lucien had done to him the night before. But he heard the swishing of the bedsheets and guessed Mundy was about to move on. 

"Lu'?"

"Hm?"

"I bloody love ya."

The Frenchman smiled. But his eyes snapped wide open and cried when he felt his lover's tongue.

" _ OOOH MUNDY!" _

Lucien grasped the bedsheets violently as his lover smiled and flicked his tongue again.

"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon Dieu! That feels amazing-mmh!"

The Australian stopped sharp. 

"Mundy?"

"Shall I continue?"

The Frenchman was shocked to hear the question. Of course he wanted his lover to continue! Was his screaming not a big enough clue?!

"Yes! Oui!"

" _ Really?" _

Mundy was pushing his lover.

"Oui, s'il te plaît!"

[Yes, please!]

The Frenchman opened his legs wider, as if to ask for more. Mundy flicked his tongue again.

"Aah, that's amazing.. Please continue, please!"

Something in Mundy's head clicked and he did it again. He teased his lover and just when Lucien thought he could stop asking, Mundy withdrew. 

"You're a such a tease, today! It's almost unbearable!" Spat the Frenchman. 

"On yer back, now."

Lucien flipped and opened his legs. He raised his head off the mattress to see his lover better. He was smirking with the most smug and evil smile. The Frenchman bit his lip and wished his lover didn't see his masculinity throb at the sight of Mundy's malicious grin.

Too bad… 

"Someone's likes being told what to do…"

The Frenchman's breath had cut. He watched as the Australian put his index finger on his needy extremity and travelled up on all its length and took off of it at the end. 

"... And it shows."

The thin liquid thread between Mundy's tip of his index finger and Lucien's begging member could not lie. The Frenchman gulped down hard. Mundy heard it and his smirk grew wider. He bent down until he was lying on his stomach and resumed his licking and teasing,  _ under his lover's pulsating need. _

Lucien couldn't watch it anymore and laid on the bed, arching his back up and moaning loudly, his subtle cries crushing Mundy's ears, turning them into a steaming heat.

"Ooh ouii…!"

The Australian licked more aggressively and lasciviously. He could feel everything, Lucien was loving the unexpected attention there. Everything was pulsating, twitching, contracting erratically. 

"Like that?"

"Mmmh, oui… Please continue,  _ je t'en supplie!" _

_ [I'm begging you!] _

Those few words were enough for Mundy to completely lose control of himself. 

" _ OH! M-MUNDY! Ooooh! Mon Dieu, your finger is amazing… Nnnhhh…" _

Mundy raised his head to face his lover and Lucien watched him lick his lips. That's when it hit Lucien. The Australian was holding the Frenchman's thighs apart with both hands. How could he then use his finger to-?

"It wasn't my finger…"

Lucien's pupils retracted to a dot. 

"...it was my tongue."

The Frenchman's jaw dropped and it might have dropped to the bloody floor below the bed!

"You…?"

Mundy lowered his head and did it again. Lucien's thighs shook as he cried again.

"M-Mundy?"

"Hm?"

The Australian raised his head. 

"P-please, give  _ it  _ to me…"

"What, my tongue? You already have it."

"N-non…"

Lucien eyes travelled down his lover's silhouette and stopped at the middle of the Aussie's body.

"Oh…"

The Australian released his lover's thighs.

"I want you to please…  _ Give it to me." _

Mundy smiled. He licked his lips. 

"I don't know, luv'. Do you  _ really _ want it?"

Of course the taller man was teasing his lover on purpose. Lucien nodded.

"Please… Please I really, really want it."

"Oh I know that, I mean look at this…"

The Australian sat up on his knees, still between Lucien's open legs, and pointed at the Frenchman's chest. 

"Someone's leaky as all hell…"

The Frenchman couldn't help it of course and indeed, his craving to feel his lover and him make one was showing in the form of the small pond at the extremity of his straight member, on his chest. 

"Mundy?"

The Australian bent on all four and got his lips close to his lover's ear. He whispered.

" _ Beg me." _

Lucien was lost. Oh Lord was he lost! Never had he have to beg to get what he wanted,  _ especially not in bed. _ Non! As he tried to remember if such a thing had happened in the past, he realised that no, it never had. He was always the one to lead the dance or at least get what he wanted! 

But was it bad…? 

His begging masculinity twitched and the pond grew a bit wider. 

Non, it wasn't bad. It was  _ exciting. _

" _ Please, Mundy, I beg you…?" _

The Australian looked his lover in the eye and for once, for  _ bloody  _ once, Mundy was the confident one with a smirk while Lucien looked like a kitten with big round eyes.

_ "Good." _

How Mundy managed to ignore and resist his own yearning was beyond Lucien. He watched as the Australian took the bottle again and poured its content directly on his masculinity, throbbing with anticipation. He then threw the bottle away and holding his member with one hand he went to Lucien's ear. 

"Are you ready?"

"Oui."

The Australian pushed himself slowly, he didn't want to hurt his lover, far from it. Lucien tried to relax as best as he could. He wrapped his arms around his lover's back and neck and pulled his close to himself. 

"Mmmh…"

Mundy stopped about half way through.

"Is that alroight? Is it hurting?"

"Non, it's perfect, continue, please, I want  _ all of you. _ "

Mundy answered by locking his lips with his lover. He didn't need to hold his extremity anymore so instead, he cupped his lover's face in his hands while pushing slowly still. 

"Still okay?"

"Oui."

He pushed further and stopped again.

"And now?"

"Stop being worried. You're doing perfectly. Enjoy the feeling, savour the moment."

"I'd rather savour your lips."

"One doesn't exclude the other…"

The Australian kissed his lover again as he reached the point where he couldn't push further. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Lucien's. 

"Mmmh, oui. Please stay like this for a moment."

"Okay." 

Mundy looked at his lover's face. Lucien was gorgeous, absolutely irresistible, even with his eyes closed like that. He opened his eyes slowly again and smiled. He locked his legs behind the Australian's back. 

"I love ya to bits."

"Me too…"

"May I move now?"

"Please, yes."

"Let me know if I hurt you or anythin'. I don't want you to feel bad afterwards."

"Please Mundy, just do it."

"Roight, roight."

The Australian took a deep breath and pulled slowly before pushing in again. His rhythm was very slow which was both to not hurt his lover and also to give himself time to appreciate everything, every little move, every contact, the warm friction...

"Oh, Lord… Mmmh…"

He buried his head in Lucien's neck and continued as slowly. The Frenchman found it adorable. It was Mundy's first time doing this and he was the one that he had chosen to do it with. Lucien knew he was lucky and he also knew he had a responsibility. Whatever the outcome of this, it will forever be linked to him in Mundy's head. And he knew that the last person that he had wanted to do that with had ended up taking advantage of him. So Lucien very much felt the weight of such a responsibility. However, it didn't crush him at all. Non. He loved Mundy, and as such, he had pledged his heart and his life to him. 

"Mmmh, Mundy-!"

"Oh sorry!"

The Australian stopped sharp. 

"Did I hurt you?"

"Non, on the contrary… You found it…"

"I found what?"

" _ My _ weak spot… Please continue and faster…"

Hearing the word  _ "please" _ from Lucien's lips had a strong effect on Mundy. As some people would use  _ "would you kindly"  _ as a way to make people do what the want, the word  _ "please" _ uttered by Lucien had the power to bend Mundy to his will and very much  _ un-bend him down south… _

The Australian obeyed and moved a bit faster. 

"Mmmh-Lu', I love you… ooh yeah, that feels incredible…"

Lucien was a moaning mess now. Somehow, Mundy had found the spot and the perfect speed for the Frenchman to lose his mind. He jerked his head back and breathed louder. Mundy quickly looked down between Lucien's legs and yes indeed there was no doubt, the Frenchman was enjoying himself very much. 

At some point Mundy stopped. 

"M-Mundy?"

The Australian wrapped his hand around the Frenchman's member and wiped the end of it with his fingers. 

"Looks like you're enjoyin' yerself…"

"Oooh, please touch it again, please, it's unbearable…!"

It throbbed again and again, as if to ask for Mundy's fingers again. The Australian touched it again, at the tip and let his fingers massage it slowly. 

"Oh mon Dieu Mundy….!"

The Frenchman bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut. 

"Luv'?"

"Huh?"

Lucien opened his eyes again. 

"You're drooling all over my bed…"

Mundy said, smiling tenderly.

"... And over my hand too, not from yer mouth though..."

"I'm sorry…"

"What are you talkin' about? Don't be sorry!"

"I thought you meant it in a bad way!"

"How can I mean that you're so turned on by me that you're leaking in every possible way in bad way?!"

"I don't know!"

Mundy put his forehead on Lucien's again and removed his hand from where it was on his lover. 

"Oh non, mon amour, come back, sorry I didn't want to make you feel bad, I was just being honest…  _ Please… _ ?"

Mundy eyes snapped wide open upon hearing that last word. And that's when Lucien caught it. He got it! 

" _ Please mon amour I can't stand you going away and not touching me…!" _

Mundy's breath cut sharp and short. 

_ "Please, I beg you, continue doing what you were doing, please, I need more of you, I need you…." _

He paused his sentence and only whispered the end of it. 

"... _ harder." _

Something clicked in Mundy's head and it took him a second before he could process everything. 

_ "Mon amour, please, please go till the end and take me with you…" _

"Bugger."

Mundy suddenly had pushed himself hard and fast all the way in. 

"OH, OUI!"

He couldn't help it, his hips had moved faster and before his head could do anything about it. And hearing his lover's scream and feeling his nails dig deeper in his skin made him go significantly faster. 

The bed was shaking, along with the entire van which ended up creaking frantically at Mundy's fast pace and the faster he was going, the more pleasure both of them felt, but also the louder the creaking became so they had to moan louder to be heard on top of it! So their voices grew louder along with their breathing; Mundy was growling like an impatient wolf and Lucien purring under him like a deadly panther.

The Australian quickly grabbed his lover's masculinity with his hand and stroked it fast. 

"Aaargh! Mundy, oui! Oui! Oui!"

Lucien thought he would pass out! It was simply too much! He pulled his lover close to him, their chests almost touching as he felt Mundy's heavy breaths and groans on his neck. 

"Lu'... Lu', you drive me mad… You drive me mad… I want you, you make me feel so good… It's insane…"

The Frenchman bit his lip and purred louder.

"Mmmh… Mundy, mon Mundy, oui, oui! Je t'aime, je t'aime comme un fou….! Mundy je vais-aaah….!"

[Mmmh… Mundy, my Mundy, yes, yes! I love you, I love you like a madman…! Mundy I'm going to-aaah…!]

Mundy stopped sharp. He withdrew and went down on Lucien to take his masculinity in his mouth. 

"Please, Mundy, please take me till the end… Please don't stop, please!"

Mundy was going as fast as he could, feeling Lucien's hand in his hair. The Australian slowly inserted his fingers where his own hard member was just a moment ago. With his other hand, he did what he knew his lover couldn't resist: he simply held him by the hand. He started rubbing and soon, he felt the fingers on his hair clenching harder as Lucien cried in pleasure.

"Aaargh… Oui, oui, oui…! MUNDY!"

Lucien's whole body shook under the powerful tremors of the pleasurable liberation. He thrusted his hips up slightly and Mundy screwed his eyes shut. The Frenchman's cry was so powerful, his soul might as well have exited his body through his mouth. 

The surges of pleasure took a while to die out but Lucien died  _ on the spot _ . His limbs fell limply on the bed, left and right. His chest rising and falling quickly, the sweat on his brow beading down. 

He couldn't speak, he couldn't open his eyes, he could but try to hang on to dear life itself through his breath, his mouth wide open. He opened his eyes and looked down. Mundy looked him right in the eye as he gulped down. He then took Lucien's fatigued member and licked it slowly, making sure to not press his tongue too hard on it. His point was to ease it back, not to hurt his lover. Lucien quickly clenched his hand on Mundy and smiled, as if to say thanks. 

The Australian licked again, at the tip, very carefully, as he knew how sensitive it was now. He finished with a kiss and moved back up, to kiss his lover, on the cheek as he brushed his hand on the Frenchman's chest. 

"I love ya, Lu'. You're the best thing to have ever happened in my life."

The Frenchman purred like a cat and smiled. 

"Merci, mon amour, you are better than perfect… But please…"

"Ah-oof, careful…"

Lucien had stroked his lover's hard member.

"Please go till the end."

"You sure?"

"But of course."

"Roight."

Mundy left a quick peck on Lucien's cheek and went back in position. When he first entered again, he hissed in pleasure. 

"It's… Just… Bloody… Amazin'…"

He started with a slow pace but it proved to be enough because Lucien did what he knew how to do best.

"Mon amour?"

[My love?]

Mundy looked him in the eye, without stopping his motion. 

" _ Tu es beau quand tu es excité, tu es toujours beau. Tout me plaît chez toi, viens ici…" _

_ [You are beautiful when you're turned on, you are always so handsome. I love everything in you, come here…] _

The Frenchman gathered just enough energy to lace his arms around his lover's neck. He kissed him, nibbling and purring softly while continuing his speech. 

_ "Je t'aime tout le temps, je t'aime même quand tu n'es pas là, je t'aime quand tu me manques, je t'aime quand tu es près de moi, mais surtout…" _

_ [I love you all the time, I love you even when you're far from me, I love you when I miss you, I love you when you are close to me, but above all…" _

"L-Lu', I'm close-aah! I'm gonna-ah, my God..!"

With a smile, the Frenchman finished his sentence.

"... _ Je t'aime quand tu es en moi." _

_ [... I love when you are in me.] _

The Australian felt it. That was it. He thrusted in powerfully as he growled loudly, Lucien's voice resonating in his skull like loud, metallic church bells. He buried his head in the Frenchman's neck and his lover tightened his grip on him, to keep him all wrapped up, and safe. 

They stayed in that position, Mundy collapsed on Lucien's chest, hugging each other dearly, for a few minutes. The Australian had closed his eyes and was trying to catch his breath. His legs and arms were cold and the Frenchman covered him up with the blanket, as if he had guessed. 

"Mon amour?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I want you to stay like this forever."

The Australian smiled. He hadn't withdrawn from his lover yet, he didn't have the strength to. But hearing his lover asking him to stay made his heart swell. 

"I love you. I love you so much, Lu'..."

"So do I."

"You know what I think?"

" _ That yer bloody lucky, _ non?" Lucien said, imitating his lover's voice. 

"Yeah… I don't know what I did to deserve the best man in the world, but here you are, in my arms."

"I could say the same with you, you know? I've spent my life lying, cheating and deceiving only to end up in the arms of a man so honest and trustworthy that I can hardly get enough of him."

Mundy kissed his lover's cheek as a thanking word. 

"You may withdraw now if you want."

"Oh, uh, can I stay a bit more though?"

"For as long as you want."

"Mmmh…"

They both smiled. Lucien put a hand through his lover's hair and brushed it.

"Mundy?"

"Hm?"

"I think I've never been this satisfied in my life."

Mundy withdrew from his lover and laid on the bed next to his lover.

"Really?"

"Oui."

"Hm…"

The Frenchman felt that his lover wanted to ask something. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me."

"Yeah?"

"Tell me what's on your mind."

"I-I mean I don't want to do that now. Can we just uh… C'mere."

Mundy rolled on his back and pulled Lucien so that the Frenchman now was using the Aussie's shoulder as a pillow. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui."

" _ Je t'aime à la folie." _

Lucien blushed. Mundy looked down and saw it, he smiled. 

"Look who's blushin' now…!"

"And look who's confident in himself, hm?"

They cuddled for a long time more. Time itself had stopped for them. For the rest of the world? Ok, time was still passing, one second after the other. But not for them.  _ They _ were special they were unique. The killers now lovers.

They had found each other.

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading this  _ spoicy  _ one! 

Let me know what you thought in the comments!

I am taking a couple of weeks of break for the winter holidays (time for me to re-read this story from scratch and get the Christmas vibes! :D)

I wish you all very merry end of the year celebrations and I hope to see you all next year :) !

See you around,

_ The Author. _


	48. Chapter 48

The Frenchman finished smoking his cigarette, crushed it and threw it in the nearby bin. He was leaning against the van.

_ Hm. Il ne devrait plus tarder.  _

_ [Hm. He shouldn't be much longer.] _

He thought, as he glanced at his watch. Lucien raised his head and looked at the tall building. The name of the company was flashing in bright red: 

_ Mann Co. _

The Frenchman smirked. How fate worked was beyond him. Was there even such a thing as fate? Is everything written well in advance or did he really choose it? 

Bah, it mattered very little in the end as for this particular part of his life, he owed it all to his faithful companion. 

"Meow?"

Ah, speaking of…

"Oui?"

Perle was brushing herself against her master's legs. He had noticed that she had been particularly clingy as of late. 

"Qu'est-ce qu'il y a ?"

[What's the matter?]

"Meow."

He lightly tapped the van's bonnet but she refused to jump on it. Instead, she elegantly sat next to his feet, on the ground.

"Toi, tu es bizarre depuis quelques temps."

[You've been acting quite strangely lately.]

"Meow!"

He was about to answer back but a voice cut him short.

"Lu'?"

The Frenchman raised his head and saw his lover, walking down the steps in front of Mann Co..

"That's it, now. I-I've signed it. I'm free from Mann Co."

Lucien smiled and opened his arms wide. Mundy came closer and hugged his lover tightly. 

"Congratulations, mon amour! Now we are both free!"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Time to celebrate then!"

Mundy opened wide eyes and raised a curious eyebrow. 

"Whot?"

"What would you like to do, Mundy?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know, I haven't really thought about it…"

"Meow…?"

Mundy's eyes went down to the cat. 

"I don't know, pretty cat. Lu', you had any idea?"

Both men entered the van. 

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I only aim to please you mon amour."

Mundy smiled, his cheeks turning pink slightly. He started the engine and put his hand on the gearbox. 

"Roight, I have an idea."

Lucien smiled in return and off they went. 

"How is the Administrator?"

"She hasn't changed, still as nice as you know her."

"Marvellous." Lucien said, rolling his eyes up and smiling. 

"I saw Miss Pauling too, still the same as well…"

Mundy changed gears and he saw the Mann Co. building shrink in his rear view mirror. 

"... I don't get how she can work for the Admin."

Lucien smiled. 

"I think you and I of all people shouldn't judge her."

"What d'you mean?"

Mundy looked at his lover quickly before his eyes came back on the road ahead. 

"Can anyone understand how we could fall for each other?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on Mundy, be honest. You're a man who lives in a van and throws jars of his own…  _ body fluid  _ at people; whereas I come across as an arrogant and posh snob,  _ devilishly handsome too." _

Lucien raised an eyebrow as he smirked, Mundy looked at him from the corner of his eye and rolled his eyes up with a smile. 

"Yeah, nah, if you say it that way, roight, I guess people can't really understand us, yeah."

"Then who are we to judge Miss Pauling?"

"True."

Mundy put his hand on the gearbox again and felt something soft and warm on top of it. He looked down. It was Lucien's gloved hand. The Frenchman started humming a French song. 

"You're not curious?" Asked Mundy. 

"About what?"

"Where I'm takin' ya."

"Non."

"That's very  _ unspook-like _ of ya."

Lucien smiled. 

"Don't you know why?"

Mundy shook his head.

"Because wherever you take me matters very little, as long as I'm with you."

Mundy turned his head to look his lover in the eye, Lucien did likewise. They stared in each other's dreamy eyes for an instant, a conniving and loving smile on their lips. 

They were now far from the city and in the middle of the desert. The sun had started setting slowly in the horizon, turning the sky orange and pink. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What about Scout?"

Lucien froze. 

"What do you mean?"

"When I left him, he still didn't understand you were his father."

The Frenchman smiled, albeit sadly. 

"So be it."

"Don't you want to tell him or something?"

"Non. I took my step forward. The cards are in his hands to play."

Mundy raised an eyebrow. 

"Mundy, it is better that he grew up without me. Look at what he's become. A very kind young man. Yes, he's unbearably loud and very clumsy but… He has his mother's kindness in his heart. I was never there for him and I couldn't understand and bear the responsibility of having a child, even though I thought I was ready for it. I would be glad to meet him again and I will still keep an eye on him, but I will let him take his time to realise that it is me and let him decide whether he wants to meet."

"Hm…"

"The poor boy had very little choice in all this so far. Let him have this one."

"Fair enough."

"Meow?"

Perle was curled in a ball of fur on her master's lap.

"You, you've been eating a lot lately and you've put on some weight, Madame…"

"Meow!"

"We need to put you on a diet I think."

Perle hissed and Mundy chuckled. 

"Nah, she doesn't need that nonsense. Also, here we are."

The Australian stopped the van. 

"Ah, and where is this?"

"Look around."

Lucien opened wide eyes and looked right and left. Desert. Nothing. Emptiness for as far as the eye could see. Mundy had parked off roads.

"Well, I'd say we're in the middle of nowhere."

"Exactly, luv'."

Lucien turned his head to face Mundy. 

"And that's your idea for a celebration?"

The Australian exited the van and his lover soon followed him, with Perle in his arms.

"C'mere."

Mundy turned to the back of his van and climbed the short ladder up. He was on the van's roof. The Frenchman followed him and found his lover sitting cross-legged. Lucien sat next to him and released Perle. The lady cat curled in Mundy's hole between his thighs and lied there. The Australian stroked her gently and she purred in thanks. 

"You see this?"

Mundy pointed and the red sun setting in the distance, right in front of them. 

"Oui." 

"I want to see this everyday of my life with you. I-I… Actually, it's the other way around, wait… I'd rather die than see this one day without you."

Lucien leant his head against Mundy's shoulder and the Australian leant his head on top of his lover's.

"Likewise, mon amour, likewise."

The sky went from golden to pink, then darkness wrapped the mercenaries now lovers, in its infinite black blanket. It was a bit more fresh and there was some wind but both men appreciated the moment. The stars soon woke up and shimmered in the distance and a half-moon was their only light. 

Mundy turned his head and looked down. Lucien raised his head and their eyes locked. Lucien's clear blue-grey ones reflecting the moonlight beautifully, while Mundy's pupils grew wider. The Australian could almost see the stars in his lover's eyes. They were so beautiful, their color was so light and they shone so elegantly. Mundy's heart squeezed in his chest. 

"I love you…"

He whispered, the words escaping his lips and his control. It almost sounded like a question, as if the tall man with the ridiculous sideburns couldn't believe that he could fall for such a handsome man. But it was only natural! The man was a bloody marvel and a half!

"What a surprise…!" The Frenchman ironically answered, smirking. But he soon lost his smile when he saw that his lover's eyes hadn't left his own. Mundy was entirely bewitched and it tickled Lucien's ego as much as it fascinated him. 

How many times had he seen that look, that stare? Pff, countless times! Especially when he was younger! He had enchanted more than one person, man or woman, who had looked in his eyes in that fashion. That look, it meant that Mundy could drop and abandon everything for just the Frenchman's charming eyes. Lucien had abused that power he had on people countless times, playing with them as he would with puppets. 

But it was out of the question to do it with Mundy. For once, as his lover looked deeply into his eyes, he felt something other than pure pride. He felt it too, he would abandon everything too, should Mundy ask him to. Why? Because he loved him like no one else before, because he now had a purpose in life: make Mundy happy. 

That kind of selfless joy he wanted to give was a new feeling. He didn't  _ have to _ make Mundy happy for a mission, he didn't  _ have to force himself _ for work or to pass the time. Non. It was his own intimate will, something rooted so deeply inside him that he couldn't remember how he used to live before he met with his lover. How did life make sense before Mundy came? 

Lucien slowly flapped his eyelids, like the wings of a night butterfly and Mundy's lips parted, his pointy canines flashing shyly. The Frenchman watched as his lover's lips stretched into a smile and without consciously realising it, the Frenchman mimicked him. 

"I love yer soft smile… It looks like… It looks like it's not just yer mouth smilin', but also your eyes and everythin' else."

Lucien raised his hand and put his palm against Mundy's cheek, brushing it slowly. The Australian closed his eyes under the tender gesture, tilting his head slightly to have more of his face in contact with the Frenchman's delicate fingers. He took a deep breath and exhaled with a smile. The vanilla hand cream, the menthol cigarettes and the expensive perfume. Everything was there, all those smells that Mundy could not imagine living without now. 

Lucien watched as a light breeze of wind made Mundy's hair float lightly. He slid his fingers behind his lover's ear, in his hair, not breaking eye contact for one second. 

The silent and soft wind, Perle's purrs. That was all that could be heard for miles around them. They were both thinking in their own heads about them, as a duet _ , as a couple. _

A couple that life had tortured many a times. Mundy's nightmares, Lucien's inability to admit that he could have feelings for Mundy, the Australian thinking Lucien had used him only for sexual tension release, the Admin not tolerating their  _ friendship _ , the enemy Spy and Sniper's bullying, the Admin firing Lucien…

All that for what, hm?

All that for them to realise that they didn't just enjoy each other's company. They wanted each other, craved each other. More than that. They  _ needed  _ each other. In a way, those dilemmas, those sleepless nights, those moments of doubt, of anger, of frustration, all that led to them staring in each other's eyes tonight. 

Was it worth it?

Oui, bloody absolutely.

The Frenchman's lips parted. He asked.

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

" _ Moi aussi." _ The Australian answered, with his accent. 

Lucien shivered quickly. The cold was starting to get to him. 

"You cold? Wanna get inside?"

"If you don't mind."

"Roight, let's go."

The wind was howling now but so far they had managed to ignore it completely. Mundy opened the back door and both jumped in. 

"Wow, you were right, outside was really starting to get cold, luv'."

Mundy removed his jacket and put it away, along with his lover's. When he faced Lucien again, the Frenchman was sitting on the worn out couch, his eyes riveted on the Australian. 

"And it's awfully hot in here…"

"I do have this effect on people, oui." Lucien smirked.

Mundy answered with a smile. He sat next to his lover and like a reflex, Lucien rested his head on his lover's shoulder.

"Meow…"

The Australian straightened his legs and lightly tapped on his thighs. Perle walked on his legs all the way up his lap and lied there.

"She obeys you better than me."

"Uh?"

"Earlier today I tapped on the van's bonnet for her to jump on it and she refused… And it's been a few days of me talking to her and she's not listening. Also, she asks for more food than usual, I am a bit worried about her."

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"There's nothin' wrong with her."

"Yes, there is! I've known her for all my life, she never behaved like that. It's almost like she's hiding something from me…"

Mundy smiled.

"Meow!"

"Yup, yer dad might have the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen, he can be blind sometimes, Pearl."

" _ Quoi?" _

_ [What?] _

Lucien frowned. 

"Meeow."

"Shall I tell him?"

"Meow."

Lucien's eyes went up and down between Perle and Mundy, as if he was following a tennis match.

"Roight... Lu'?"

The Frenchman raised his head off his lover's shoulder. 

"Are you ever going to tell me what is wrong with her?"

"I told ya, there's nothin' wrong! Pearl, lie on yer back, please."

The cat obeyed and rolled on her back, raising her four paws up. 

"Gimme yer hand."

Lucien obeyed and his lover grabbed his hand and put it on Perle's stomach. 

"What? Yes I am aware that she grew fatter because I yielded to her tantrums. I should never have-oh!"

The Frenchman cut his own sentence short when he felt something bump his hand. His pupils shrank to a dot. 

"The reason why she's eatin' more and she'd rather walk than jump is because-"

" _ Elle est enceinte!" _

_ [She's pregnant!] _

Lucien's breath cut sharp and he raised his head to look Mundy in the eye. 

"You're gonna be an uncle to some baby kitties, Lu'!"

"Oui! Hahahaaa!"

The Frenchman burst out laughing and it struck Mundy. His lover was as happy as if these babies were his own.

"Oh mon Dieu, ma chérie! Pourquoi tu ne m'as rien dit?!"

[Oh my God, sweetheart! Why didn't you say anything?!]

"She  _ did _ tell you! You just weren't listenin'!"

Lucien seemed thrilled and very enthusiastic. 

"But when will we get the babies? Is she alright? Do I need to take her to a vet or do something?"

Mundy's heart melted seeing how excited his lover was. 

"Nah, she's fine. I'd say she still has about a month to go or somethin' like that."

"Right, fine, ok, you sure she doesn't need anything?"

"Nah, she needs to eat a bit more yeah, and when the time will come, she needs us to help her. But not just now."

Lucien nodded, he paid very close attention to what Mundy said. 

"I can't wait! Actually, wait, non… Where's the father? Can we find him?"

Mundy raised his eyes off the cat and looked at his lover. 

"Even if we did, he wouldn't do anythin' to help."

"I'm quite taken aback."

Mundy wrapped an arm around Lucien and the Frenchman rested his head against his lover's shoulder.

"Why?"

"In all her life, it's the first time she is carrying kittens."

Mundy smiled. 

"If you saw it like I do, you would be mindblown rather than  _ 'quite taken aback'." _

"Why?"

"It's almost as if she spent her whole life takin' care of ya, refusing to do anything else, even having kids."

"Well, she is bearing children now."

"Yeah, now that  _ you _ 're in good hands, she decides that it's the right time for her to have a life of her own. This cat, Lu', I swear this cat is a miracle."

The Frenchman's face softened. Perle rolled on her stomach again and purred under both her masters' hands.

"Oui, indeed she is. I apologise for not having understood you, Perle, I really do."

"Meow."

She looked up to the Frenchman and as he scratched her head, she closed her eyes and purred.

"How many babies is she carrying, do you know?"

"Nah, but more than one for sure."

"We're going to be  _ uncles _ ."

"Meeeow!"

Perle screeched and hissed. 

"Nah mate. We're gonna be  _ dads." _

Lucien looked his lover in the eye, a smile on his lips. He felt himself become hot. 

"Fathers?"

"Yeah."

"You and me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh…"

Lucien put a hand on his open mouth. Mundy put his lips on the Frenchman's head and closed his eyes. His mind rolled back to the first time he had done that. He remembered the burning sensation in his guts, the fear, the pressure on his shoulders when he had dropped his lips on the Frenchman's head, on the fabric of his mask. 

"Should I wear my mask?"

"Huh? What?"

"The first time you held me like that, you told me, and I quote,  _ 'I like yer mask, it's uh, it's very soft.'." _

"Really?"

"Oui. And I spotted the lie before you even finished your sentence."

"Sorry…"

"Don't be. It was charming."

"Huh?"

"Your attempt at lying because you simply didn't have the courage to tell me the truth."

"Well neither did ya at the time!"

"Indeed, but I was the one who took the first step towards you."

"Whot?! I was the one who took you Christmas shoppin'!"

"Ah Bushman, but  _ I  _ was the one putting my hand on your cheek and saying that I loved you!"

"Ya spooky wanker, how hard was it for  _ you _ to tell me you loved me, you must've done that a thousand times before in yer life!"

"Hey  _ imbécile _ , I was the one who went for a kiss!"

"A kiss?! Ya call that a kiss?! You piker, you hardly touched my lips,  _ I  _ was the one who dived in to kiss you!"

"Oui, because I was unsure of  _ your _ feelings, you keep them buried so deep in yourself, I couldn't know!"

"Oh of course, it's  _ my  _ fault 'cause maybe  _ yer Spooky self _ don't hide yer feelin's  _ at all, eh?! _ "

Lucien and Mundy's tone of voice had risen and their faces were but an inch apart, their eyes zigzagging from left to right, trying to be the one who's right in the end. But suddenly their jaws unclenched and their eyebrows relaxed. 

"Pff,  _ on est ridicule." _

_ [We are ridiculous.] _

"Y-yeah, I guess we are."

Lucien rested his head against Mundy's shoulder again and sighed. 

"Lu'?"

"Hm?"

"So… What do we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I-I don't know. Where shall we go? What will we do? Nothing ties us here anymore. Maybe you want to go back to France or somethin'?"

The Frenchman raised his head and looked his lover in the eye. 

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Waaaaaa! This is getting closer and closer to the end guys, ready up your tissues!! 

Thanks for reading and please do let me know what you think of this one in the comments, I always greatly appreciate the feedback!

See you around for 49!


	49. Chapter 49

"Are you sure about this, Lu?"

"Oui, Richie. Merci for the job, the opportunity and everything."

Lucien extended his hand and Richard took it, shaking it firmly.

"He should be the one thankin' ya! More folks are comin' every night here now!"

Tom put a hand on Lucien's shoulder.

"Old Tom is right. Thank you very much, even if it has only been too short in my honest opinion. I wish you two all the best for what's coming."

"Cheers mate." Mundy said, nodding. 

"Good luck to you too, Richie. And I'm sure your establishment will grow as big as your ambition."

"I hope so. And needless to say, you both are welcome here anytime, should you pass in this part of the world."

"Merci."

"Cheers."

After all hands were shaken, the couple left _ The Lodge _ and sighed. 

"Now, to my hotel. I need to check out."

They walked to Lucien's hotel. When they arrived, the man at the reception greeted them both. Lucien answered and Mundy nodded, following his lover to his room. The employee behind the counter realised that it was the first time he ever saw that client smiling.

"Right, give me a moment, I need to pack my things."

"Need any help?"

"Non, I should be fine. I don't have much belongings."

"Okay."

Lucien darted from the room to the bathroom, collecting the few things he had scattered here and there. Meanwhile, the Australian sat on the armchair and extended his legs for Perle to climb up and sit on his lap. Mundy didn't have to wait too long for his lover to finish and he soon appeared again, a single suitcase in his hand. 

"That's it?"

"Oui."

"You don't have much."

"Oh but I do. I have  _ you." _

Lucien opened the door and waited for his lover to join him. 

"Meow!"

"Oui, and you too, ma chérie."

[My sweetheart]

The Australian joined him and laced a lazy arm around his lover's waist. 

"Thanks, luv'."

"What for?"

"Everything."

"Well then you have to thank me for many things." The Frenchman smirked. 

"Y-yeah really, for everythin'."

The exchanged a quick kiss, Lucien on the tip of his toes and Mundy pulling him by his waist and bending his head down. When their lips parted, they stared into each other's eyes for a second more. 

"Meow…!"

"Oui, allons-y."

[Yes, let's go.] 

Lucien locked the door and Mundy followed him back to the hotel reception.

_ \-- Later -- _

"Roight, I've arranged everything for the van. It should arrive a couple of days after us."

Mundy slammed the door of the van shut as he entered and took the driver's seat.

"It's fine, I have sent my own car there, we can do with just that. Do you have your luggage?"

Mundy looked left and right and seeing that no one around them was looking, he quickly grabbed Lucien by the hand. 

"Yeah, I do now."

"Oh I see, I'm the luggage now? I am reduced to a mere piece of equipment?!"

"N-no, that's not what I meant Lu', I'm sorry, I-I… Uh I mean you're everythin' I need…"

Lucien gave Mundy a smug smile. 

"Oh you're playin' with me again! Lu', I swear!"

Lucien wiggled his eyebrows.

\--  _ At the airport --  _

There weren't that many people in the airport. After all, Mundy and Lucien were travelling way out of the holiday season. 

_ "Ladies and Gentlemen, the passengers flying for Bordeaux Mérignac are kindly asked to get to the gate for imminent boarding." _

Lucien and Mundy were sitting next to each other in the waiting room. Upon hearing those words, they looked at each other. 

"Are you sure about this, Mundy?"

"About what?"

"Flying to France with me."

"Well, wouldn't it be a bit too late to change my mind?"

Lucien smiled. 

"Non, it's not too late. If you feel unsure about this, we can do something else."

"No, no, luv', I was jokin'. I'm sure. I'm going with you, wherever you want, as long as I'm with you."

The Frenchman stood up and offered a hand to his lover. 

"Shall we?"

Mundy looked up at Lucien. 

"Yeah."

He took his lover's hand and stood up. They both joined the queue to board the plane.

_ \-- In the plane -- _

"Nervous?"

"Yeah, nah, it's fine."

"Tell me what's on your mind."

"N-nothing."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. 

"Roight, roight. I'm just thinkin' about it."

"About what?"

"All this. I'm sure I want to be with you but I'm not sure what's going happen next."

The Frenchman smiled.

"Mundy, if you taught me anything, it's that we shouldn't worry about what  _ will be _ . Look there."

Lucien pointed at the window and the Australian turned his head to look through it. 

"We're three thousand kilometers above the ground, above the clouds themselves, in that layer of the sky between Earth and space and you're worrying…?"

The lights in the airplane were low and the sky was dark. Lucien looked around him and saw that most passengers were asleep. He took his lover's hand in his and Mundy gasped. He faced the Frenchman who smiled tenderly, his blue grey eyes slicing through the dimness of the night like red hot blades through a block of dark steel.

"Mon amour…", the Frenchman whispered, "Please do not worry. I am with you and I will do whatever it takes to make you happy."

Mundy's face softened in a smile. 

"Thanks."

"You know, you are not the only one who does not know what awaits."

"Hm?"

Mundy felt Lucien's hand squeezing his a bit tighter. 

"It's been forever that I haven't set foot in Bordeaux."

"But you come from there?"

"Oui, and I fled it as soon as I could."

"Why?"

"Mundy, this is a part of my story that very few people know."

"I'm all ears."

Lucien leant his head back against his seat and looked up at the small night light. He took a deep breath. Mundy slid his fingers between his lover's and gripped his hand firmly, in an effort to give Lucien the strength he would need. 

"Fine. This is the beginning of the story of the man who is sitting tonight next to you, in this plane, between the ground and the sky…"

Mundy rested his head on his lover's shoulder. 

"I was born in Bordeaux, that's what the records I've found say. My parents? I remember very few things of them. They were always far and abroad and I was sent to a private boarding school. The discipline was strict, the teachers even more so. And that's where I learnt that however hard the situation and whatever bars there were on the windows, I could always free myself from them."

"Uh?"

"Well if you know the right people and the right way to talk to them, I found that I could get whatever I liked."

"You seductive bastard…"

"In a way, yes." The Frenchman smirked proudly. "But seduction is not always to get a companion. Sometimes, it's just to make someone open a door, convince someone to say something that you want them to say. And I began to understand that the fine art of seduction can be used in a million different ways. So, if I paid close attention to the lessons of maths, literature and the like during the day, I sharpened my oratory skills with anyone I could find, classmates, teachers, supervisors, anyone! And I kept on growing year after year until…"

"Until?"

"Until puberty hit and I learnt another lesson."

"Hm?"

"If you know how to speak  _ and you look as good as God could make a man _ , then that certainly helps."

Mundy smiled and rolled his eyes up. 

"So I started taking a particular care about my looks. I made sure to always have impeccable hair and equally nice clothes, and with that…"

Lucien snapped his fingers. 

"... I hit my seventeenth year and last year of high school with very valuable lessons in my head, lessons that guided me through life for a very long time."

The Frenchman leant his head on top of his lover's. 

"And then?"

"Well, throughout most of my childhood, I've rarely ever seen my parents and grew to be raised by my teachers more than anyone else. One of them I was particularly close to."

"Oh?"

"Despite the fact that I was in an all-boys school, it was a female teacher. She taught us what used to be called natural philosophy."

"What's that?"

"Basics of physics and chemistry."

"Oh…"

"She was…  _ different. _ She seemed to see in me more than a young boy whose parents were too rich to care. She somehow made me think that maybe,  _ maybe _ , I could become something, or rather  _ someone _ important."

Mundy smiled and Lucien felt it. 

"Why do you smile?"

"That's very Scout-like of ya to say…"

Lucien froze. He couldn't even ask for an explanation. 

"I mean the poor boy wants to be seen as  _ 'kind of a big deal'  _ as he says. And that's exactly what you're describin' there."

Lucien's eyes grew wider. 

"Mon Dieu…"

"Yeah, the boy might look like you more than you think."

The Frenchman's breath cut and it took him a couple of seconds to process and digest what his lover just told him.

"Sorry, luv'. I didn't mean to say something that offends you."

"It doesn't. I am… surprised. I hadn't thought of it that way."

Mundy raised his head and left a silent kiss on his lover's cheek. It made the Frenchman snap back to his story. He sighed before he resumed his speech.

"Well, I finished high school, graduated with honours as you say in English and decided to not further my studies."

"Why? If you were a good student and you had the money, surely you could afford that."

"I could afford it. But I thought that I could become someone, uhm,  _ different. _ Important? Yes, but not important as a medical doctor or lawyer or… Non, someone important  _ differently. _ "

"And you became a spooky devil."

"Well, oui, but before that, I became a singer."

"Oh, yeah, that's true…"

"I wanted to be even better than Sinatra himself. And I was convinced I would."

"Lu'?"

The Frenchman looked down on his companion. 

"Oui?"

"You are."

"I am what?"

"A thousand times better than Sinatra."

Lucien kissed his lover's forehead and Mundy melted in a sweet grin. 

"Merci mon amour. So yes, I started singing in bars in Bordeaux. I remember the first establishment was not the type of bar you would imagine me singing in now. But it got me started. I always looked to sing in better places, I would go and provoke my luck, trying to push the limits of destiny. It worked beautifully until I thought to myself  _ 'what if…?'." _

"What if what?"

"What if I pushed my luck a bit further? And before I could really think about it all, I was in a train on my way to Paris with even fewer things that I'm travelling with now. When I arrived, I needed to start it all anew, climb the ladder of local bars and restaurants from the bottom again. Some I stayed in for months, others just for a couple of nights. But I never stopped to try and get to better, more sought after places."

"Did you do that until you became a spy? How did you go from singer in a restaurant to France's best spy?"

"Well, I managed to sing in Le Conquérant, the fanciest restaurant in all of Paris. Oh Mundy if you could have seen it…"

Lucien started stroking his lover's hand. 

"It was… Grand, truly. People came from all Paris and beyond to listen to  _ le Grand Lulu. _ Ambassadors, foreign leaders, ministers, leaders of political parties, people of power! Oh mon amour if you could have seen me back then, I was young and felt so strong as if nothing could get me, nothing. I had become that important someone. I had made it all on my own."

"Wait, what about yer parents?"

"When I left Bordeaux, I didn't tell anyone."

"Y-you fled?"

Lucien nodded silently. 

"But why?"

"They didn't seem to care much about me anyway. What difference could it make if I disappeared?"

"Didn't they look for you?"

"Maybe. But I bleached my hair blond and let my hair grow until a year or so passed and when my hair became all black again, it was flowing down my shoulders and I was singing in Paris. I also had chosen another name until they stopped looking for me."

"Wait, so Lucien isn't your real name?"

"Yes, it is. But in that period of time where I tried to escape my parents' grip, I was called differently. I came back to Lucien, or rather Lulu, when I needed for Le Conquérant."

"Oh, roight… But that still doesn't tell me how you became a spook."

"Ah, I remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. One night after my show, I went to around the tables of the few important people who had come. I shook hands with them and thanked them. I had the usual small talk with them, you know, chatting about this or that. One of these people happened to be the Minister of Defense. I asked him to give me some news about his daughter. I remembered that he had told me she was rather unwell. He raised an eyebrow and invited me to sit next to him. I politely obliged and had dinner with him."

"That's it? You had dinner with the minister of Frogs' Defense and poof, you became number one spooky man?"

"Non…" Lucien chuckled, "Be patient, Mundy."

"Roight, roight…"

The Frenchman rested his cheek better on his lover's hair and resumed his story. 

"Night after night, show after show, he kept on coming. I kept on shaking his hand and talking to him. He came to tell me that his daughter felt much better and she was finishing her studies as a nurse. Now, Mundy, you have to know that that man was quite older than me, he must have been of the same generation of our parents, so his daughter was approximately of the same age as me."

"Uh oh…"

"Indeed. After a couple of weeks, he started bringing her with him to the restaurant."

"Oh bugger…"

" _ Bugger  _ indeed… It lasted for months and I was completely oblivious to it. I thought she was a nice enough friend, her father was most kind with me, until one night."

"Oh?"

"He came to find me backstage. I was alone in my room and talked to me seriously….

'Lulu, you are a decent man.'

'Merci.'

'I guess it doesn't come as a surprise now that if I came to find you here on your own, it is to give you my daughter's hand.'

I remember I was tiing my bowtie around my neck, facing a mirror. The cloth slid out of my fingers when the words hit my brain like a bullet. I turned to him and said politely, yet firmly, that I refused. He asked me why, he couldn't believe that I was just friendly with his daughter. I looked at him and told him that it was but exactly that. I was just being polite and gentlemanly. He raised an eyebrow and took a seat on my armchair. 

'Could you do that to anyone?'

'What do you mean?'

'How good are you with ladies, Lulu?'

I blushed and felt extremely uncomfortable. 

'I-I can't complain.'

'I imagine that, looking as good as you do, you might have your way with them like no one else.'

'Well I certainly cannot complain.'

'And you seem to be able to get those that you are not interested in either, hm?'

'What do you mean?'

'My daughter, for instance.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, that was never my intention to-'

'What if you did this professionally?'

This time I was the one to raise a curious eyebrow. 

'What do you mean?'

'What if you became…'

He stood up off the armchair and put a hand on my shoulder, closing the gap between him and me. He then whispered in my ear.

'... A spy?'

My eyes popped out of my head. 

'But I can't, I have no idea how that works, and it's way too dangerous!'

'I will come back and you will give me your answer when you have thought about it.'

He started walking to my door to exit the room.

'Wait, why me?'

He turned his back to face me.

'If you could fool me, Lucien, then you are a much better spy than you can even imagine. It's outstanding people like you that we need right now. The country is in a rather delicate position. But don't let me bore you with details. When you make your decision, I will be there. Good night.'

He left the room and me, alone in it, my jaw on the floor and eyes out of their sockets."

"How long did it take you to accept?"

"A week I think. I thought about it thoroughly, it kept me awake during the night until I decided that it might well be what destiny had in store for me. Maybe that was it! Maybe I was destined to become the greatest secret service agent the Earth had ever seen!"

"And that's what you became."

"Oh, maybe not the best in the world, but the best in France, oui. And the day I helped the Minister of Defense escape Paris to London as the Germans invaded,  _ that _ was the day I knew I made it. I remember he looked at me and asked me to hide in England and wait. France would be free,  _ we _ would free it. It would cost us everything but we would make it if that's the last thing we did. I agreed as he shook my hand and patted my shoulder."

"Wow…"

"And that's I think the last piece in the puzzle of my life. Now, you know everything."

Mundy took Lucien's hand between his two hands. The plane continued its journey across the Atlantic and both lovers fell asleep. 

_ \-- Bordeaux -- _

"Taxi!"

A taxi driver stopped. He put Lucien and Mundy's luggage in the boot while both men sat in, Lucien putting Perle's travel basket on his lap and Mundy, Hootsy's cage on his.

"Cours de l'Intendance, s'il vous plaît."

_ [Cours de l'Intendance is one of the most expensive streets to live in in Bordeaux.] _

The taxi driver nodded and off they went. The airport was about half an hour away from the centre of Bordeaux. Mundy kept on staring out of the window. They had landed early in the morning so he got the privilege to see the city wake up. 

"As you know, Bordeaux is located on a river called  _ La Garonne. _ Its source is in Spain but it flows all the way up in France and joins the Atlantic Ocean not far from here. The left bank of the Garonne is considered the posh side."

As Lucien gave his explanations, the taxi driver exited the ring road and drove into the city. 

"We are now on the quay, on the left bank. See those buildings?"

Mundy nodded. A line of building was lying between the city and the river. They looked very clean, in light yellow large bricks, typical for French buildings. Their roofs was made of dark grey slate.

"Their architecture was copied on Parisian style. Those buildings are the result of Bordeaux getting rich after we exploited slaves that we got from Africa. We'd then bring them to America to work in fields and the likes to then import sugar and other goods back here, on these quays. This place with the fountain is called ' _ Place de la Bourse' _ ."

"Place of the purse?"

"Purse or stock exchange if you translate it literally. The idea is rather 'Place of Money'."

"Oh, wow, it looks gorgeous."

Lucien saw the taxi driver give a faint smile in the inside mirror.

"It is indeed. Of course, when we stopped this slavery nonsense, we got rich in other ways."

"How?"

"Well, what are we famous for here?"

"Wine?"

"Exactly! Wine and any product that we get from ducks."

"Ducks?"

"Oui, there is this certain type of delicacy that we sell at quite a high price."

"What's that?"

"It's called  _ foie gras,  _ literally  _ 'fat liver' _ . We force-feed ducks or geese until their livers become indeed very fat. We then cook it in a particular way. I'll take you somewhere to try it. It's delicious!"

"Alroight."

" _ Cours de l'Intendance!" _

The taxi driver interrupted them as he parked the car. They all poured out of it and in a couple of minutes, the taxi darted away, leaving the two men and their belongings on the pavement. 

"Follow me." Lucien said as he grabbed a suitcase in one hand and Perle's travelling basket in his other hand. Mundy followed and they passed door after door, shop after shop. The Australian looked up at the names of the shops. They were all fancy clothes brand with French or Italian names. They passed a watch shop, some jewellers and Lucien stopped in front of a tall, black wooden door. He put a hand in his pocket and got a key out. With a click, the latch yielded and both entered. 

"Which floor?" Mundy asked.

The Frenchman turned to face his lover and smiled. 

"Any one of them you wish. The whole house is ours."

"W-what?"

Mundy opened wide eyes. 

"This is a gift from the Ministry of Defense."

"A what?!"

Lucien chuckled. He put Perle's basket down and opened it. The fluffy white feline exited, meowing her frustration to have been locked up for hours repeatedly. 

"Oui, Perle, pardon ma chérie, je vais te donner de quoi manger, suis-moi."

[Yes, Perle, excuse me sweetheart, I will give you your food, follow me.]

While the Frenchman headed for the kitchen, the Australian opened Hootsy's cage and followed his lover, his eyes discovering their new home like a child would marvel at a Christmas present. He looked up, down, left and right. The ceiling was high and his heels clicked on the wooden floor as he looked below his feet. The walls were painted in white and the paint looked quite recent. 

Lucien opened the blinds in the kitchen and the sun came in, drowning the kitchen in a pale yet warm yellowish glow. The white cupboards and walls flashed the sunlight in every direction and Mundy's eyes couldn't but stop at the Frenchman's silhouette as he stood up after pouring some food for Perle. His grey temples and white streak of hair at the front shone brightly and as he spun around to leave the kitchen, Lucien faced his lover, standing between himself and the door, his eyes riveted on his own, his lips parted. The Frenchman smiled. 

"I know that stare, Mundy."

Lucien's voice broke Mundy's moment of appreciation. 

"Huh?"

"You were staring."

"Oh, uh, sorry."

The Australian lowered his eyes. His lover closed the gap between them and put a finger below his chin, pulling it up. When Mundy raised his head, the Frenchman was giving him a smug smile, his right eyebrow sticking up.

" _ I didn't ask you to stop." _

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

Thanks for reading! 

Well, next chapter will be the last one, guys! Ready the tissues up! 

Let me know what you thought of this one and see you all for the next and final chapter of Baguette Knife and Headshot Man :)

See you for Chapter 50!


	50. Chapter 50

"Hey, I'm back luv'!"

"And what time do you call this?!'

Mundy heard his lover from the kitchen. The smell of fried onions and fresh vegetables diffused in the whole house. 

"I-I'm sorry, Lu', I really am. I got caught up."

Mundy answered, shouting from the entrance hall where he was removing his shoes.

"You will have to make up for it!"

Lucien shouted back, on top of the noise of the sizzling vegetables. Mundy smiled and rolled up his eyes. 

_ That smug devil knows how to get what he wants… _

"Oui, I know…!"

_ Bugger, I've forgotten he can read my thoughts... _

"Now would you please set the table, dinner is ready!"

The Australian went to the living room and put the couple of baguettes he had brought with him on the table. He then went to the nearby cupboard and got everything he needed to lay on the table. He put 2 plates, laid the forks and knives, as well as the water and wine glasses. Lucien soon emerged from the kitchen, a tea towel on his shoulder, and put the pan on the table mat. 

"Mmmh, is that a ratatouille you made?" Mundy asked, smelling the steam on top of the pan.

"Oui, it is my favourite dish after all."

"Is it?"

"Oui! Give me your plate."

Mundy sat down and held his plate for his lover to help him to some food.

"Did you think about the bread? Ah yes,  _ très bien." _

[Very well.]

Mundy deeply appreciated that Lucien kept on speaking English to him. They had been in France for a couple of weeks now and the Australian had complained about the headaches after long days of trying to speak only in French.

"How is your head today?"

"A bit better, I think I'm getting used to it, although…"

"Although?"

The Frenchman sat down and both started digging in their plates. 

"Although I don't know how you did it with English, was it that painful too?"

"Oh, believe me, it was worse!"

Lucien poured himself and his lover some wine. 

"I had to learn it at school!"

"Oi! I had French lessons at school too!"

"Well, apparently you've learnt much less than I did!"

Mundy's fork stopped in mid air, between his plate and his mouth.

"What the bloody hell are ya talkin' about?! Of course you learnt more, you learn anythin' at the speed of light!"

Lucien dropped his fork on his plate and pointed a menacing index finger at his lover.

" _Quoi?!_ _You_ 're the fastest learner I've ever taught!"

Mundy took the tip of Lucien's index finger between his own index and thumb. His face softened and slowly, a grin appeared.

"D'you remember last time I held you like this?" 

Lucien lowered his head to hide his smile and when he raised it again, his eyes were dreamy. 

"How could I forget…? You had saved me from freezing to death."

"Yeah…"

Mundy chuckled and Lucien joined him. The Australian, his eyes still locked on his lover's, pulled Lucien's finger and kissed it before releasing it.

"Merci mon amour."

[Thanks my love.]

"Meo-wh."

Mundy turned and looked behind him while Lucien peeked above the table. Perle was dragging herself towards her masters. 

"Oh, someone is close to bein' a mum eh?"

The fur on her stomach was brushing the ground and her gait was much heavier and slower. 

"Meow…"

"Yeah, it's tirin', I can only imagine."

Lucien and Mundy finished their meal while Perle laid on the floor, next to Mundy's chair. The table got cleaned and both lovers ended up on the sofa with some fruits to share. 

"Apricot?"

"Hm-mh." Mundy nodded and Lucien opened it in halves. 

"Here you go… Oh?"

Mundy was opening his mouth and wiggling his eyebrows. Lucien broke the half of the apricot in smaller pieces and fed his lover. 

"Look who's being spoiled now…!"

" _ Om nom nom nom… _ Oh you bet I am… Mh, being fed fruits by the most handsome man I know… I'm bloody lucky… Wait…"

Mundy shifted on the sofa so that he was now lying, using Lucien's lap as a pillow. 

"There ya go, now  _ this _ is being spoiled…!"

Lucien rolled his eyes up. 

"Luv'?"

"Oui?"

"More apricot please?"

"More apricot for the king of the kangaroos…!" Lucien said, forcing a strong French accent to make himself sound more posh. He fed his lover more and reaching for the remote, he switched the TV on. The news unrolled in an avalanche of words for Mundy. His eyes lazily followed the pictures on the screen while he opened his mouth every so often for Lucien to give him more fruits. The Frenchman was listening to news carefully and remembered to eat himself between two bits he gave to his lover. 

"Pfff, I knew it…!" Lucien spat.

Mundy's eyes went to his lover.

"What's that?"

"See that man?"

Mundy's eyes went to the screen.

"Yeah?"

"I used to know him when he was but a young and ambitious mayor. Now he's been caught stealing money off people's taxes for his own interests. I knew he was uhm… How do you say that in English…?"

"Fishy?"

"Oui, fishy."

"Hm, look at you knowin' people everywhere eh!"

Lucien raised a proud eyebrow. 

"Well, your lover used to be the best French spy after all."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know…"

"You sound disappointed?"

"Nah, I'm… Well, each time you say you know important I'm uh… I mean…  _ it's excitin'...! _ "

Lucien smirked. 

"I mean I don't know anyone who's famous and you seem to know presidents, kings and stuff like that!"

"I used to, oui. Not sure they do remember me now. My hair is grey, even white at the front and I have lines on my face that seem to grow bigger by the day…"

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I love your grey and white hair and I love the lines on yer face."

"You only say that to comfort me."

"No…"

Mundy raised his hand and cupped his lover's cheek. His thumb brushed Lucien's cheek up to the corner of his eye. 

"... I really do. I can't explain it but it makes you look even more uh…  _ attractive _ ?"

"Ooh, listen to you speak, you find me  _ exciting _ and  _ attractive.  _ Pray continue, I'm curious to know what else you think of me."

Mundy slid his hand down on his lover's face again, making sure he'd brush past Lucien's lips. When he felt it, the Frenchman quickly bit in. 

"Ouch! Ya wild frog!"

Lucien's lips pursed into a smile. He released Mundy's finger and kissed it. 

"Yeah, I prefer  _ that _ , thank you very much!"

"As if you didn't like my biting…!"

Mundy's answer was simple to understand: he blushed, and that spoke louder than words. The news on TV ended and were followed by the weather forecast. 

"Oh, it's gonna be sunny over the next few days, eh?"

"Oui, welcome to the South of France, where the weather is lovely and the sky always as blue as your eyes."

Mundy smiled. 

"Well, the weather is okay I guess…"

"You  _ guess?" _

"Yeah nah, it's fine, but one day I'll take ya to Australia and you'll see."

Lucien bent down to look his lover in the eye.

"I can't wait for this day to-oh, Perle?"

"Meow…"

The lady cat had dragged herself next to the sofa and meowed repeatedly. Mundy sat up in a flash and went to his knees next to her. Perle was breathing loudly, she meowed again and again. 

"She seems panicked, what is wrong ma chérie?"

[My sweetheart]

"Lu', it's coming, go and get some towels, quick! And bring some of yer clothes!"

"My clothes?!"

"Yeah, I'll explain when you get everythin', now run!"

Lucien jumped over the sofa and obeyed without further questioning it. He came back with as many towels as he could carry and a couple of his shirts. Mundy took them and, grabbing her basket, he laid the shirts on it. Perle dragged herself painfully in her basket and collapsed there. 

"Take it easy, Pearl, we're here and we'll help, breathe…"

"Meow…"

Her waters started breaking and she started licking herself repeatedly.

"Meow…"

"Lu', talk to her in French, calm her down."

"Alright…"

The Frenchman sat on his knees next to the basket, facing Perle.

"May I touch her?"

"Ideally, no, leave her alone, but talk to her."

"Perle ma chérie, tout va bien se passer ne t'inquiète pas, on est tous les deux avec toi, on va les accueillir comme il se doit tes petits,  _ nos _ petits."

[Perle, my sweetheart, everything is going to be fine, don't worry, we both are here with you, we will welcome your children as they deserve…  _ Our _ children.]

"Meow?"

"Yeah, good job Lu', she's relaxin', go on, continue talkin'. We're gonna be dads! _ " _

That sentence hit Lucien across the face like a slap. 

_ We're gonna be dads… _

"Roight, here we go, Pearl, breathe luv', it's gonna be fine, Lu' and I are here to help ya. Lu', place a towel next to her… Yeah, that's good, roight-oh! Here's the first one!"

Mundy pointed at a small back thing that indeed after a couple of minutes, proved to be a kitten. 

"How long does it take for the whole thing to happen?"

"I don't know, it depends, lady cats usually bear between three and say eight or nine kittens and it can take between ten minutes up to an hour between two babies."

"Mon Dieu… Shall we clean them or clean her?"

"Meeow…!"

"No, absolutely not! Let her clean them and clean herself, don't touch the babies before she does! Oh, look at this…"

Perle turned her head and licked her first born. He mewled in a high pitch voice.

"Aw, it's her first baby…! Listen to him mewl, such a small and fragile creature…"

Mundy pulled Lucien closer to him and wrapped an arm behind his back. Lucien rested his head under his lover's chin.

"Yeah, and it's a black one… You went and found a black mister cat, eh?"

"I can't blame her, I like my men to be a bit  _ exotic  _ too…"

They exchange a quick conniving glance before their eyes went back to Perle. 

"Meeeeow…"

"Lu', continue talkin' to her, I can see the second one pushin' through!"

The Frenchman nodded.

"Ma chérie, je suis là, et Mundy est là aussi, sois forte et courageuse. Si tu as été patiente avec moi toute ta vie, tu peux le faire. Tu es une amie extraordinaire et je suis sûre que tu feras un mère tout aussi exceptionnelle."

[My sweetheart, I am here and Mundy is here too, be strong and brave. If you managed to be patient with me all your life, you can do this. You are an extraordinary friend and I'm sure you'll be as exceptional a mother.]

The second kitten exited his mother's belly and Perle licked him again. 

"Oh, that one is white with black patches and oh bugger there comes another one!"

"Meeow!"

"Allez ma chérie, vas-y ma belle, tu peux le faire! Je suis fier de toi!"

[Come on sweetheart, go my lovely one, you can do it! I'm proud of you!]

And in the end there were four kittens: a black one, two white ones with black patches and a black one with one white patch on his head. 

"Oh mon Dieu, is she eating the…?"

"Placenta, yeah, she's lost an atrocious amount of water and blood. She does that to get some hydration back. Actually, Lu', go get her some water and some food. Don't give her the dry catfood thingies that we use for Hootsy, get her the expensive stuff you're used to buyin' her."

"Fine, give me a minute."

Lucien came back with a bowl of water and one with catfood. He placed them next to her basket. 

"We should give her a moment with them. She'll probably clean them and then fall asleep. It's awfully tirin'."

"Fine."

Lucien sat cross-legged in front of his feline friend's basket. 

"What are you doin' Lu'?"

"The same as she did to me for years. I'm watching her until she sleeps."

Mundy came closer to his lover, on his left side and kissed his temple. 

"I'm stayin' with ya."

"Merci mon ange."

[Thanks my angel.]

It took Perle only a couple minutes before she fell asleep. The kittens hardly moved, they wiggled awkwardly, trying to understand their surroundings.

"She ruined my shirts…"

"Well y-yeah, I'm sorry."

"Why did she need them?"

"Seeing you close to her, hearing you but also  _ smellin' _ you makes her relax. You can't even imagine how stressful and painful it is for her to give birth to babies."

"Oh, so it's to comfort her?"

"Yeah. I would have gotten a piece of my own clothes but you're her master, not me."

"Non, you've once again proved you're a much better father than I am, Mundy. She's yours as much as she's mine."

The Australian smiled and silence fell. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"How are we gonna call them?"

"I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hm…" 

The Australian frowned for a moment. 

"Not really, not until we know if they're males or female… Wait, let me have a look…"

Mundy slowly raised a back leg to each of the babies. 

"The black one is a male… Both white ones with black patches are females… And that black one with a white patch on his head is a male."

"Hm, so we have to find two ladies' names and two gentlemens'?"

"Yeah."

"Hm…"

Lucien thought for a second. He then pointed at the black kitten.

"I would suggest  _ Minuit _ for the black one."

"Midnight?"

"Oui, what do you think?"

"Yeah, that's a good name."

Lucien's index then moved to one of the white with black patches ones.

"For her, why not something like  _ Étoile?" _

"Star? Why?"

Lucien bent forward. 

"If you look closely, the patch on her head is shaped like a star."

Mundy squinted and bent forward to better see.

"Oh you're roight, blimey, yeah! Star makes sense then! Then the other one's patch looks more like a… Bugger, what shape is that…? Oh, it's kind of a diamond, so why not  _ Diamond?" _

"Diamant? Perfect! That's a beautiful name! And now we just have to think of a name for that last one."

"Oh I know what we're gonna call him."

"Oh?"

"His fur is all black with only a white patch on his head. Doesn't that remind you of anyone, Lu'...?"

Lucien turned his head to look his lover in the eye, an eyebrow raised like a question mark, until it dawned on him.

"You don't mean to call him-"

"Yeah, we shall call him  _ Lucien." _

Lucien put a hand on his mouth.

"B-but, mon amour…"

"Alroight, he's _ Lucien Junior." _

Lucien looked at the kitten who was asleep, then back at his lover. His eyes were glistening with the tears he was struggling to hold back.

"So that's in the end,  _ Midnight, Star, Diamond  _ and _ Lu' Junior. _ "

"Or  _ Minuit, Étoile, Diamant _ and… well… Lucien Junior."

"Meow…"

Perle had opened her eyes and licked her babies again. 

"What d'you say of these names, eh? Do they sound alroight to ya, Mommy Pearl?"

"Meow."

"Good girl… Now Lu', that means you got 5 kids."

"Five?"

"Yeah, don't forget Scout!"

"Ah, oui, of course. And we share the custody of these 4 ones."

"Yeah, I guess we do."

The lights were low in the flat. The kittens were mewling shyly while Perle got busy with the intense cleaning session, which she went through very thoroughly. 

"Lu'?"

"Hm?"

"When did you learn to play the piano?"

"What?"

"When I saw you in that restaurant, you were not only singin' but you were playin' too."

"Oh… When I was a young child, we used to have music classes. That's where I learnt some basics, and then through the years, I got to practise in the different restaurants I played in."

"Oh, roight."

Silence fell in the room. The Australian moved to sit behind his lover and wrap his arms around Lucien's chest, pulling him to lean against himself. The Frenchman gladly obliged, his head was right below the Australian's chin.

"Lu'?"

Lucien raised his head slightly.

"Oui?"

Mundy grabbed Lucien's hand in his.

"Lu', I think I'm happy."

"You say it as if it was a bad thing?"

"N-nah. I'm just surprised. I'd never had imagined I could be this happy, have someone I love, who loves me back, someone I can just be myself with, and now… Now we've got babies… We're…"

"Fathers, oui."

"I mean you gotta admit, it's all been pretty wild."

Lucien chuckled. 

"Indeed, it has been so."

"C'mon. First we work together, and what do we do? We fake-kill people to test weapons for a hat company?! You can't make that up!"

"It's true."

*Then we somehow get along… How did it all start again?"

"Mundy, you're staring at the reason that pushed us to talk to each other."

Perle stopped licking her babies for a moment and blinked with both her eyes.

"Oh, yeah, it was  _ you _ Pearl!"

"Meow!"

"Oui, then we got along  _ very well,  _ despite the odds."

"Yeah, true."

"Then I got a bit too… uhm…"

" _ Ballsy?" _

"Ew, Bushman, that's a terrible word, I don't like it!"

"Oh, sorry princess, I'm merely providing her majesty with the roight English word for her idea!"

Lucien smiled and pulled Mundy's hand to his mouth to kiss his fingers.

"I'd say that, knowing my worth, I threw a little tantrum! Helen didn't want to lose the number one available spy, so she gave in."

"Helen?"

"The Administrator!"

"You know her name?"

Lucien raised his head, smiling with most smug grin and Mundy lowered his eyes to see him. 

"Oh, roight, I nearly forgot, you know everythin' on everyone!"

"I do possess some intelligence about the people I work with and work for, yes."

"So, if  _ Monsieur Lucien _ is so clever. Can  _ Monsieur Lucien  _ predict what will happen?"

Lucien freed himself from his lover's embrace and turned to face him. They were both staring at each other, face to face, cross-legged and sitting on the floor, between the fireplace and Perle's basket.

"I can."

"I'm all ears, go ahead."

Lucien took both Mundy's hands in his and looked him in the eye.

"Here is what will happen. First, we make sure Perle is comfy and doesn't lack anything."

"Hm-mh." Mundy nodded. 

"Then, I will shortly go upstairs."

"And leave me alone here?"

"I have something for you."

"You got me curious, luv'."

"I will ask you a question. Should you answer by the positive, you get the object that's been hidden in our very bedroom under your very nose for a couple of days and I think the rest of the story matters little."

"Wha-?"

Lucien put his index finger on his lover's lips.

"Don't interrupt me Bushma-ouch!"

Mundy bit the tip of Lucien's fingers and wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Oh, you devil with pointy teeth…!"

The Australian released his lover's finger and kissed it.

"Roight, so I just stay here and you'll bring me some'in'?"

"Oui. Give me an instant, please."

"Okay."

Lucien unfolded his legs elegantly and stood up. He left the living-room and Mundy could hardly even hear his footsteps.

"D'you know what he's talkin' about Pearl?"

"Meow."

"O'course you know… Can you tell me?"

Perle yawned.

"Yeah sorry pretty cat, you're exhausted and I'm asking you things…"

Lucien entered the living room again. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"Stand up please."

"Oh, alroight… there we go…!"

The Australian stood up and stretched his shoulders and legs quickly. 

"Non, non, don't come towards me. Stay in front of Perle and her children."

"Alroight, alroight, sorry Mister…!"

Mundy stood up like a lamp post in the street. 

"So what now?"

"Now, Mundy, listen carefully…" The Frenchman closed the gap between him and his lover. 

"Mon amour, you know that I want to spend the rest of my days with you, non?"

"Uh, yeah, so do I."

"Bien."

[Well.]

Mundy watched as Lucien slowly sank down on one knee, his eyes never leaving his lover's. 

"Lu', what the hell…"

The Frenchman put a hand in his pocket and took a small square velvet box out of it. He opened it facing his lover. 

"Would you like to spend the rest of  _ your _ days with me?"

Mundy's eyes went big as plates as his pupils shrank to a dot. In the box stood a thin silver ring. The Australian blinked a couple of times to be sure of what he was seeing, what was unravelling before his eyes. He put his hands on Lucien's forearm and pulled him up.

"Yeah, of course, yes!"

Lucien hugged him tenderly as he felt Mundy's fingers clench on his sides. 

"Oh my God, Lu'...!"

The Australian couldn't help but burst into tears. 

"Mon amour…?"

"It-it's alroight, it's happy tears, oh bugger look at me now, I'm cryin' cause I'm happy… Doesn't make any bloody sense…"

Lucien smiled and slid his fingers at the back of his lover's hair as he raised himself to the tip of his toes.

"It doesn't have to make any sense,  _ Monsieur Mundy de Bellandre." _

Mundy instantaneously broke the hug. 

"What?"

"It's my last name, now yours as well."

"Mundy de Bellandre…" The Australian repeated softly to himself while Lucien put the ring around his finger. He then took the other ring and put it through Lucien's thin finger. 

"Wait, does that mean I'm…  _ engaged  _ now?"

"I'm afraid you are, Mundy. Wave goodbye to a life of seducing whoever happened to cross your path, Headshot Man…!"

Lucien said, wiggling his eyebrows. The Australian grabbed him by his waist and pulled him to himself, so that their chests touched.

"Tell that to yerself, Baguette Knife!"

**_\-- Author's notes --_ **

*insert keyboard smashing here*

That's all, folks! This is the end of Baguette Knife and Headshot Man! 

_ After 5 months of intense writing, hopefully, it's been worth the read! _

I would like to thank all of you who just happened to find my story and stuck to the end. In particular, many thanks to:

  * All the discord crew for their kind words and sticking with me since I started writing my nonsensical scribbles ^^


  * Crows, for their editing
  * May, for her constant support 
  * Ropable, for their stunning Sniper/Spy art that keeps on fueling me to get better at writing and write more
  * Emma, for her stunning fanart for this story
  * Vanarose, because he has become a most precious friend and he is the one that completely inspired Mundy's character. Vana, you're the best ;) ! ( _And don't say 'no u!' ;)_ )



I will continue writing but as far as I can see, I don't have any more ideas for Sniper/Spy. Feel free to join our discord server if you want to keep up with my scribbles : 

[ https://discord.gg/BPbVqct ](https://discord.gg/BPbVqct)

Thank  _ you _ all very much and I will see you when I have more stories to tell :) 

_ The Author. _


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